Here I am

Yesterday, I realized how joyful I was feeling as I went about my day. I felt so grateful to be exactly where I was in life, and incredibly excited about what's to come. Today, I went out for a long walk and noticed the leaves beginning to change color. Change is in the air. A new season is here.

Fall has always been my favorite time of year. Growing up, I would greatly anticipate the start of school, a new soccer season, the approach of the holidays, etc. I associate the fall with coziness, nesting, family, activity, and celebration. We were married in early November, and I was born in November. Now, our baby is due in November.

It seems no coincidence, but rather a blessing, that I am entering my last trimester as the season begins to change. I can feel the nesting urges coming upon me. (I spent yesterday cleaning and organizing the basement and 3rd floor). There is a great transition occuring simultaneously with me as with nature. I am clearing out the old as I welcome the new. When I see the leaves becoming red at the edges, I think "It's almost here, Erin. You've been waiting for this forever..."

When I found out I was pregnant in March (and only 2-weeks pregnant at the time), the fall seemed ages away. The stretch from March until September has felt long with my days feeling spacious. Now, suddenly, it seems that there is much to be done and festivities abound. I am hosting a 98th birthday party for Joe's Pa Pa, Thanksgiving for his family, and even heading out to LA to walk the red carpet for the Emmy's... I am looking forward to a second baby shower and two weekends with my mom in Western Mass. To me, these weekends are sacred. I have always loved one-on-one time with my mom, and our talks and long meals. I asked her the other day if she feels a sadness about my transition to motherhood, as her oldest daughter. She did not; She felt that I had lived well in my 20's and early 30's, and is ready to now experience me as a mom. For me, each change is felt at a core level right now. There is a letting go, a welcoming, a need to acknowledge and mark these endings and beginnings.

Last night, as I went over our autumn weekend plans with Joe, he looked at me wide-eyed. We only had one free weekend together over the next two months. It momentarily overwhelmed him. I smiled at him and said, "This is it, Joe. This is life."

That's how I feel right now. I feel all of the anticipation of fall as I begin my new journey... mamahood. The worries from only last week (how will I attend to my business once the baby arrives?) seem to have temporarily dissipated. I want now to notice each and every change around me, so as not to miss anything. There is much to be done, and yet nothing to be solved anymore. In a way, I feel that I have arrived. I have come to learn that it is really a sign of a new beginning.