guest post: waiting

Waiting
By DaMomma

Advent never meant anything to me until I experienced pregnancy.

In the Christian tradition, Advent is the four-week period leading up to Christmas. It is a time when we consider impending birth, and the celebration of hope and new life. It is a time of Waiting, and great deals at the Mall.

For the first twenty-six years of my life it was mostly about the deals at the Mall.

Motherhood teaches you a lot.

I met motherhood in the form of a miscarriage at 12 weeks, the day before Thanksgiving. December came, and the concept of Waiting for a baby became torturous. Try it, the priest told me. Not expecting, not thinking or acting. Just Waiting.

The first Sunday of Advent we light a purple candle for Hope.

This is where Waiting has to begin — hope is the reason we are on the path, it activates us. We know that we’re past “it-might-happen” well into “it-will-happen” — but it hasn’t yet happened. Real hope isn’t a demand for good things, it’s actually the absence of demand. It’s the belief that whatever is coming is worth the Wait.

Hope is exhausting. Endless hoping becomes hopeless. It goes nowhere, it is just a constant state of faith with nothing to ground it.

So the second week we light another purple candle — for Wisdom.

Wisdom comes from loss. In our Waiting, it is impossible not to consider loss — what has happened, what could happen. In Waiting, it isn’t happening. So be grateful. Wait.

But don’t wallow. Wisdom balances hope, joy balances all.

The third candle is rose-pink.

I always thought the pink was for Womanhood, for Us, for the gift of giving life. Because on the bed, feet in the air, the entire world fixated on your crotch it is possible to forget you’re the lucky one in the room. You are the only Mother this child will ever have. No one else will ever get just how amazing that is.

So be hopeful, and wise, but make lots of room for joy.

The autumn after I first tried out Waiting at Advent, I was Waiting again, this time for my own labor that was, in my opinion, overdue.

So I began with Hope: Something will happen, and it will be worth the Wait. Wisdom: Where I am is fine. Wait and see what comes. Joy: She’s in my belly now, she kicks and rolls, and she is mine forever, no matter what happens after this.

The last Sunday of Advent we light a candle for peace. The world is as it is. Yesterday you were not Waiting. Today you are. Tomorrow something else will come.

Julie, your time of Waiting has passed, the miracle has come, and you are blessed with the light of your son Jonah. But Motherhood is a perpetual sort of Waiting — waiting for the first smile, the first steps, the first day of school and on. I wish you hope, wisdom, joy and peace in the years to come.

Mazel tov, and peace be with you.