When I moved from low church to high church, I was introduced to the concept of Advent. It is a beautiful tradition, but one that didn't fully make sense to me. At the time.
And then...then I became a mother. And though I didn't carry either of my babies to their due date, I find I understand it a bit better. It's...anticipation, breathless anticipation (partially because there's no room to breathe with a baby taking up most of the room), joy, and welcome.
Also worry. She knew her Son had a Destiny.
As a mother, I understand much of how she must have felt...only, unlike her last month of pregnancy, mine was secure, sheltered, and protected. Hers...was either spent walking, or riding on the back of a donkey, likely not knowing where or when her next meal or next sheltered place to sleep would be found. I spent my last month of pregnancy in the care of midwives. She didn't, and likely had no one but her husband to help her deliver her Son.
It's...humbling. Something that makes me think, meditate on both motherhood, and His mother.