I don't like surprises. I like to know how things will go. I need to know what to expect. Sure, it is just an illusion, but I like to think I control some aspects of my life.And so, I plan.
My children have a way of shattering my imaginary world. They started doing that even before they were born. My third child wins the prize. Her very existence was a surprise - some twenty-two years ago.
A birthright counselor told me the good news. I cried.
I didn't feel all that blessed. Two small children at home, an unfinished college degree, a husband who wasn't sure he wanted to be married anymore.
No, you really aren't supposed to get pregnant the month after a trial separation. Not a great idea. Certainly not my idea.
Nothing has been predictable in these past two decades.
I have two grown children who are married. I thought one of them would make me a grandmother at some point. But no, that would be too predictable. It's the third one. The one not yet married. She's the one who will make me a grandma.
At first, the doctor told her the baby would arrive in December. Then November. It's back to December again.
My daughter called last weekend to say that the ultrasound showed that it's a girl. She called again today. Nope. They had to have a second ultrasound - to check on a couple of things - and lo and behold. It's a boy.
Didn't see that one coming.
I'm getting pretty good at this game. Not good enough - I guess I can still be surprised.
Interestingly enough, when the Year for Priests began, I knelt in the Adoration Chapel and asked God to give me a grandson with a vocation to the priesthood.
So, when my daughter called today to tell me it's a boy, I laughed and told her that he just might be a priest.
My daughter reminded me that she wasn't Catholic (my older children didn't convert with me). Might be hard for him to become a priest, not having a Catholic mother, she said.
I laughed and reminded her that our children are full of surprises. Now, she will be the one to say, "Gee, I didn't see that one coming."
And it's my turn to laugh.
(I need to plan a trip to the baby store. I have about ten pink outfits to return. Oh well. I'm getting used to rolling with the curve balls. After 22 years, I'd better.)
