C'est La Vie

A countdown to Christmas; a countdown to birth. I’ve been thinking a lot about Mary, riding on a donkey just days from delivery—can’t have been fun. But at least Mary didn’t have to deal with everyone in her life asking, “So are you going to deliver on Christmas?”

The check-out woman at Festival Foods said last week, “You could just have the doctor take you now and be home in time to enjoy the holiday!” My mind wandered as I thought of how to respond and suddenly all I could think about was being in a soap opera scene, giant and pregnant whispering, “Taking me now, doctor; take me now!” What strange traditions become cultural norms in our society.

When did it become such a taboo to have a baby on Christmas? Certainly it poses a challenge for birthday planning in the child’s life ahead and for years to come but I think we’d just do something creative like have a family birthday dinner the weekend before or the day after and then have the big friend party on the half birthdays. Would that be so bad? No one minds a party in June.

My brother’s girlfriend just celebrated her golden birthday on Monday. My aunt’s birthday was yesterday, a fact which, even though I was emailing with her all day, was completely forgotten; thus disproving my theory that people can have normal birthdays near the biggest holiday in America.

I guess I don’t feel stressed about when the baby will come because I don’t choose to have any control over it. I don’t like the idea of inducing before I’m due and thereby inviting the cycle of complication that enters the birthing process when intervention is started. So what can I do? Nothing. I can sit and wait and gently prepare my home for the holidays and for my upcoming home birth whenever it will be. I release it all: the unpredictable holiday chaos, the snow storm that threatens to cloister us all inside for two days (will the relatives be stuck at their homes or mine?) and the guess date of when my baby will come. What will be will be.

Or, as my husband and I kept saying last night to our endless amusement as laundry dropped in small trails behind us from our overstuffed arms as we made our way from the basement, too tired to stoop and pick anything up: c'est la vie.

Happy Holidays to you! May you too release control of that which you cannot affect and enjoy the peace that was meant to mark this deep midwinter celebration.