Yesterday morning when we woke up, we had no idea what kind of a day we were about to have. I had barely even waddled down the stairs when, from the living room, I heard Dan exclaim, "Ohhhhh! You've got to be kidding me!" Rounding the corner into the living room, I witnessed for myself what was a massive and indescribable explosion of dog diarrhea in giant puddles and droplets all over the room. Dan had already morphed into "super husband" mode and was running around gathering various cleaners, sponges and plastic bags. "I'll get the hot water!" I cried, lumbering over to the hot pot. Dan spent the next 2 hours sponging, scrubbing and soaking various key areas of the carpet, not allowing his poor pregnant bride anywhere near the scene of the disaster, but periodically I could hear him gagging and gasping for air as he worked. I was left to send towels and hot water through the partly open door, trying to avoid catching a whiff of what Dan kept reminding me was a simply putrid smell.
With windows open, baking soda laid down and dehumidifier running full steam, we were finally off to complete our one errand for the day- a much needed grocery shopping trip. We got into the car and Dan turned the key. Nothing. Tried again. Dashboard lights and engine coughing. Tried one more time. Nothing. Dan looked over at me. I burst out into tears. (Hey, I'm 8 months pregnant, I'm allowed to react in whatever flipping negative way I want! :) There I said it!) Staring up at the over head light, I noticed it was still on. "This is why, Dan", I muttered through my tears. For the next 2 hours, Dan, again providing and taking care of his poor, pregnant wife, walked up and down the neighborhood asking for jumper cables and a car to borrow. No one was home, or if they were, they didn't have the cables. We called all our friends in town. A few were busy but could help us later- and were very apologetic and willing to help (We have great friends here!). One friend, Tim, drove all the way out to our home on the peninsula, started our car and drove back into town behind us. We took he and his wife to lunch afterwards in gratitude.
Now in the supermarket, I was still a bit grumpy and down. I was focusing on the negative. I was highlighting in my mind all the bad things we've had to deal with since we arrived in New Zealand 8 months ago. The dogs, the house with it's fur, dust, dog meat, and bugs; the long drive into town; all our many unforseen expenses; the worry about our future finances; my pregnancy aches and pains and of course, our homesickness. As I was standing in an aisle with a big frown, periodically dropping items into the cart with an annoyed "humph!", suddenly an old man came and stood next to me, and, taking an item from the shelf, looked at me and said something most meaningful and important to me. Very gently and with a great smile he said, "Are you looking forward to your big day?" I looked at him and said with a smile I was somehow able to put on, "Oh yes. June 2nd is my due date. I'm very excited." Nodding at me, he smiled again and walked away, but I stood there for several minutes, realizing that what he said to me was so simple, yet so important to me. With one simple question, he was able to remind me that, although we've had some hardships, we ARE very much looking forward with the greatest of joy to the day that our child will be born. Our child's birth means everything to me- a greater gift than any other earthly treasure. Right then and there I was able to completely drop my negative attitude and walk away happy, with a smile on my face and tears of joy in my eyes. It doesn't matter if we've had all these troubles. What matters is that Baby is coming! :) I think I will remember that old man and his simple question for a very long time.