if you read this post you will know that i am already baby crazy even though my boy is only 7 months old. i am resolved to not try to get pregnant right now (because i realized my motives are APPALLING and TERRIBLE, the same sick over-achieving martyr motives that made me take calc bc in high school when i hate math). that makes me sad.
last year i was pregnant at christmas. i was showing, we knew freddy was a boy, and he was a KICKER! it was very special. i was primed with christmas-y emotions of anticipation and tenderness and wonder.
but this year i am primed in a different way. last year i had the (subconscious) anticipation of a baby who would give me the identity i always craved. this year i am struggling with the (unfortunately conscious) fact that the long-awaited magical mother identity does not save! i have the anticipation of someday "coming up from the desert, leaning on her lover's arm" (song of sol 8:5). i have the anticipation of the one Baby who did give me a new identity. a new name, a new heart.
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