We moved into our house last July, about 4 months before Rory was born. As my due date became near, I insisted on
On one such walk in late October, Marcos and I unknowingly passed by my stalker's house. We noticed her lawn before we noticed her. "Look at that grass," said Marcos. "It's so green." (Maintaining a perfectly green lawn is one of Marcos' life goals. He dreams big, what can I say?) When we turned the corner and saw the front of her house, we saw a woman kneeling in front of her flower beds pulling weeds. She heard us talking and looked back. When she saw my enormous belly, a huge smile spread across her face. That was one of the best things about pregnancy: no one can resist a pregnant belly. Everyone wanted to touch my belly and everyone wanted to know the same three things. I got to the point where I just started saying, "November 3rd. Girl. Rory." This made waiting in line at Starbucks much more efficient.
Anyway, back to my stalker. Surprisingly she didn't ask when I was due or what I was having or give her unsolicited opinion on our name choice. She simply said, "What a blessing!" and then turned back to her gardening.
Marcos and I exchanged looks. "Excuse me?"
She turned back around and said, "Being pregnant. It's such a blessing. I hope you're enjoying it."
Now, remember, I was eight months pregnant and feeling anything but blessed, but for the rest of our walk and all through dinner, I couldn't stop thinking about what she said. She was right, of course. I know several friends/family members who had a very hard time getting pregnant and several who are still undergoing medical procedures in the hopes of a positive pregnancy test. It took us one month.
When people noticed I was pregnant, they tended to focus on post-pregnancy happenings and advice. You must be so ready for her to arrive. Don't forget to sleep while the baby sleeps. You're not vaccinating, are you? Remember, you can't spoil a baby. But this stranger reminded me to live in the moment and enjoy every minute of my pregnancy. I no longer prayed for Rory to come early.
A few months later, we were in the midst of Rory's four month sleep regression and decided to take a stroll around the neighborhood, this time in hopes that Rory would fall asleep. About halfway through our walk, we passed a few women talking on the sidewalk. Just as I was navigating the stroller around them, she caught my eye and gave Rory a huge smile. I recognized her immediately and prepared myself for an onslaught of platitudes I wasn't in the mood to hear. But this time, instead of gushing about what a blessing it is to have a baby, she looked right into my bloodshot eyes and said, "Thank you."
I looked behind me, because surely this strange woman wasn't speaking to me. I didn't even know her. What could she possibly be thanking me for?
She must have known that I was confused because she went on to say, "Having a baby is so difficult. Nobody understands how hard it is. You don't get much sleep and you don't have time for yourself anymore. So, I just wanted to thank you."
I felt like hugging this woman, or at the very least starting a slow-clap in her honor. Instead, I just smiled and we continued on our way. Once again, I couldn't get her words out of my mind. Her small expression of gratitude and understanding was just what I needed to hear after being up every two hours for several nights in a row. That night, instead of feeling frustrated when Rory woke up to nurse, I remembered that there was at least one person who understood what I was going through.
After that, I thought for sure our random run-ins with this lady were over, but just last week, we saw her at the grocery store. We were both heading to our cars with full carts, only Marcos and I had a cranky baby who was due for a nap and screaming at the top of her lungs. As soon as she saw us, she smiled that huge smile, patted my arm, and said, "It just gets better and better."
I looked from her to my crying baby and for the third time wondered how God knew just when and where to put this lady to help me make it through some of my toughest days. It was then that I realized I didn't have a stalker so much as a guardian angel. "Thank you," I told her. "I'm enjoying every minute of it."
Last Friday Rory's afternoon nap was shorter than usual, and she woke up pretty cranky. I put Rory in the stroller and purposely headed towards her house, hoping she would be out in the garden and offer me a few words of encouragement. I slowed down when we reached her house and was disappointed when she wasn't outside. I surreptitiously peered through her windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. And then it hit me. I was now the stalker. Oh how the tables have turned.
I don't even know my victim's name or if she has children of her own, but her thoughtful words have helped me through some difficult days, and I pray that she'll be outside working in her garden when Rory gets her first molar. If not, I may just have to knock on her door.
No comments:
Post a Comment