Breaking bread

Thursday was my last day of work but I just couldn't do one more day. Maybe it was taking (and passing!!) both of my licensing exams, the second one at 36 weeks. Perhaps the tumult of the recent patient population I have been dealing with burned me out. Or I was too pregnant to haul over to the hospital. I woke up feeling flu-y and awful and, truth be told, a lot like how I felt when I woke up the day Avi was born. So Leeor took Avi to his share care buddy's house before going to work and I crawled back into bed.

We had a lovely celebration for M, our beloved nanny, and our share-care family that afternoon. It was M's birthday as well as our official "last day" together. She won't be working for us while I am on leave and I know we will need to make some dates with her because Avi loves her dearly. I remain grateful that we found such a wonderful person to care for our children--it's been almost two years together and can't say enough good things about her.

Friday it slowly dawned on me that my new reality was finally here. I took Avi to my office to drop off a few things and do a final clean out. He loved sitting at my desk (and all the other cubicles in the room I share with four other women; I enjoyed hearing his "conversations" on the phone). He didn't want to leave but I desperately did. The sun was shining and it felt so good to be making such a conscious shift . . .but it also felt a little scary. My routine, with its well-known, safe structure, is no more. Now it's just me, at home, with my son and soon to be born baby girl. I still don't have diapers for her. Though I began to pack a bag for the hospital, Leeor helpfully unpacked it (he thought it was left over from our overnight trip to my mom's last weekend) so that isn't done, either.

And yet.

Last night I baked bread for the first time. To some, this might not be a big deal, but I was beside myself with pleasure. I was suddenly filled with purpose and joy that I might not need ever buy an overpriced loaf again. I kept saying (to my bemused husband), "It's good! And it's so cheap to make! And easy!" like I was the first person to bake a homemade loaf.

Avi had helped me make the dough but went to bed while it was rising. He awoke to a mommy still tickled about her accomplishment. I reminded him of our dough-making and showed him the end result. His eyes widened and he requested a slice "with butter and jam" for breakfast. So we ate together and I swilled coffee and felt marvelous.

Somehow the bread-making marked my transition into this familiar and yet new-feeling place as we await baby sister's arrival. It was a good ritual for me to begin to find my groove at home.

Then this afternoon, some girlfriends came together for another ritual, a blessing bestowed upon my baby girl and me. When these women came together to bestow a blessing upon Avi and me, it was perhaps a "more perfect" experience. There were no toddlers mucking around with playdough and cheddar bunnies. But this afternoon felt so good in such an honest, real way. Leeor was in an out, getting ready for an event I opted not to attend tonight. Avi and my friend's daughter played and talked over the blessings as they were bestowed. It was good. I felt seen and understood, known, treasured and honored. I felt such love.

As we talked about motherhood and life and children and birth, I savored what feels like my biggest gift at the moment; becoming a mother, while a revolutionary experience, also brought me back to my truest self. It feels good to evolve in these directions, outward and inward, as I move forward in motherhood and life in general. I feel grounded and grateful. I feel strong and present. I look forward to this daughter of mine making herself known to me. As I gaze upon my beautiful son, I feel so connected to him. I know him so well and he will always have a particular hold on me. But here comes my second child, my baby girl, and I relish the opportunity to know her, too, and to embark upon the path of mothering two little beings. We will eat a lot of bread together, hopefully warm, with butter and jam.