Waiting.

I remember so very vividly. Sitting in that raised bed in a large room in a hospital in Atlanta. A gown clasped loosely on my back. Medication dripping through the IV and into my body as we watched the contraction monitors dance up and down, steadily, rhythmically. My hub, sliding back and forth, back and forth, in the old wooden rocking chair in the corner. Our parents, laughing and talking in the background, as I dozed in and out of an epidural-enhanced sleep.

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. 

Oh, if only we knew the kind of love we were waiting for. 

And then. 

He was born. 

And I loved him with every ounce of my being. And I knew that he was the first reason I was put on this earth. 

Just over two years later, I found myself in the same hospital, in the same loosely clasped gown, in a different room with a different birth plan, but with the same anticipation. My hub by my side, in his blue scrubs, as we waited for the surgeon. Our parents offering last hugs before I was wheeled away down a long, brightly lit hallway and into the operating room. 

I found myself holding my breath as my hub stroked my hand.

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. 

And then. 

She was born. 

And I knew this was the moment my life discovered a new purpose: To be the momma of a little girl. She was the second reason I was put on this earth. 

And now. Here I am.

I try to hold tight to every kick. Every punch. Every roll. Every hiccup. Knowing that this is the last time I will feel my baby move inside my body. I gently rub my belly, reassuring my little one that he/she is safe. And cherished. And loved. Oh, so very loved. This baby is my final dream come true. My third reason for being put on this earth. And I cannot wait until the day we finally meet. 

But. For now. I treasure our time together, just my baby and me. I imagine our life together as I sit, whispering softly, with my own reassuring tap, tap, tap, as I watch my belly rise and fall, rise and fall, with the rhythm of my steady breath. 

And then. 

We sit quietly together. 

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.