Nesting

My children and I are on Spring Break this week.   Although we have collectively decided to spend at least half of our vacation relaxing, we have also been busy visiting family, touring museums, and hiking in the family’s 200 acre woods.    Even with all of this lovely activity, it has been an exercise in futility to act as though the impending kidney donation is not looming large in my thoughts.  I am a planner…and for some reason planning begets cleaning.

What?  Yes, I said cleaning.  The truth is that I hate to clean.  It is not the deep loathing kind of hatred, just the irritating “Why would I spend my time this way” sort of disgust.  I do clean every week…just like I pay my bills every week.  It is just not something that I generally enjoy.  Not so this week. 

As a mother of two, I know this feeling well.  About two months before each of my children were born, I spent days scouring every surface in my house with anything that might help to establish a blisteringly clean environment for my growing baby.  As I inched closer to delivery, I became even more frantic in my need to prepare and clean.  I assumed that hormones were creating this inborn necessity, making me a bit nutty yet linking me to every other soon-to-be Mom on Earth.

So what is my excuse now?  I am no longer creating an entire human being out of my own body’s raw materials.  I am simply donating a completely formed organ that has been used since my own birth.  Why is this sending me into the nesting mode?

Perhaps it has more to do with the logistics involved.  When each of our children was born, so many plans had to be formulated.  With our first child, it was all about childbirth classes and designing a birth plan.  My husband and I worked hard to learn all that we would need to bring our daughter into the world in the least medicated way possible. 

Fast forward another month and I was on bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy…just hoping to hang onto her until she was fully cooked.  Two weeks past her due date, I had to throw our entire birth plan out the window.  After an emergency c-section and 24 hours in intensive care, I was simply grateful for a healthy baby.  The loss of the birth plan was completely forgotten in the sublime beauty of meeting the creature that had been kicking me for months. 

I got a real sense of my own power during pregnancy.   My husband and I both contributed genetic material to initiate the construction of our babies, but the site and raw materials for this immense building project came from me alone.  Whether or not I delivered my own child or needed help—I was still an amazing woman.  I had never made anything that made me more proud.

My pride doubled with the birth of our son.  Again, I was unable to deliver without help…but I had been through this before.  A healthy baby was my only goal and we were blessed once more.  His birth required more planning, because he had a big sister that needed to feel like his entrance into our family was as much of a blessing as we did.  I sacrificed many of my own comforts to ensure that she was cared for—spending time with her Daddy and many loving grandparents.  I think that is why it feels the same.  When something is eminent and yet still so far away, it is difficult to prepare.  You picture it in your mind and try to plan for all possible contingencies.  Then the day comes and all you really need is healthy outcomes for all involved.

So I will nest for the remaining months and understand that I am doing the only real planning that I can.  I will have a sparkling house and on the day of the surgery I will give it all to the universe and the hands of the surgeons and other caregivers dedicated to rendering a positive outcome for my Dad and for me.

For others going through this experience, let me wish you, “Happy Nesting!”