Knowing the future - it's not for me.

Have you ever been hit with something really, really, really hard? Like a sledge hammer, or a bowling ball, or an anvil, or a boulder? I'm talking about being hit like the poor coyote is every time he tries to catch that sneaky road runner.

That's what I've been feeling at moments in this last week or so.

For the first time, I can actually say that I've felt ready to meet the little tyke who's been growing inside of me. I've actually had moments this week where holding her in my arms sounds more wonderful and less scary that her remaining in my stomach. (Admittedly this could be a result of the now-evident stretch marks and constantly aching stomach and back, but still, for me, this is a step in the right direction.) And I've had moments where labor has actually been something I've anticipated rather than dreaded.

These changes in my attitude are due in no small part to the fact that my due date is now 15 days away, so I'd better be getting myself ready. But they're also due in large measure to my dear husband who is so beside himself with excitement that he can hardly contain it. Thank goodness for his overt excitement, because it fires my own, more subtle version.

Another thing that hit me like a slap on the side of the head the other day is that I'm having a baby with Chase. Chase, the boy I had a crush on in elementary. Chase, the boy I dated in high school. Chase, the only boy I've ever kissed. Chase, the man I married over 6 years ago. Chase, the love of my life.

I was listening to some dumb country song, driving the back roads I used to drive to get to work when I was in high school, and I was thrown back to my high school days. While it's true that we dated throughout high school and I secretly dreamed of marrying him and having his kids, now that it's happening it seems surreal - so strange. What would I have thought had I known then that a decade later I'd be carrying the baby girl who will (we think) even be named the name we picked out way back then?

Sometimes we wish we could know the future. I doubt there's a person on the planet who hasn't thought to themselves at least once, "Oh, I wish I'd known then what I know now." But the reality of life is that knowing the future wouldn't really make life more enjoyable. At least I don't think it would. It would make life more stressful.

I think today (*Note* - I originally wrote this on 9/11/11, though I didn't get it posted till a couple of days later) not only of the good things, like my husband, my baby, my mom's birthday - Happy Birthday Mom! - but also of those hard things, like the Twin Towers being hit, the families aching for lost family members, and the holes - both physical and emotional - that have been left behind. All these things would be more bitter if tasted in advance of their occurrence. Sure, being able to plan for the future would be nice, but knowing the flavor of the bitter end before being forced to taste the droplets of its reality would sour the last days, hours, and moments. And knowing the sweetness of things to come would somehow make them less sweet - like too much ice cream which only causes headaches and stomachaches.

Perhaps you don't agree with me about knowing the future, and if not, that's ok. But today (again, written on 9/11/11), the day I celebrate my mother, and the day I mourn with the rest of our country, I am thankful that I do not know the future and can leave it safely in the hands of One capable of handling it. Having myself tasted the bitterness of deep loss and the elation of great celebration, I rest secure in living each moment as it comes, untainted by the next.