I am 41 weeks and 3 days pregnant today. At least according to the due date (March 27th) my doctor gave me based on the blood test and personal information I gave them back in July. When my due date came and went, I started to get really anxious. I was ready for this baby to come. I had washed (most) of her new clothes, I had been resting and taking some time off from work, I had gotten most of things on my to do list accomplished, and I had cleaned up the house (enough). Well, my daughter had other plans for me. God had other plans for my daughter. God had other plans for me. … None of which included having this baby ‘on time’. Due dates are somewhat arbitrary, (especially in my case) and honestly deceptive. I’d like to blame my feelings of frustration, discomfort, irritability, and so on, to the fact that my daughter has not arrived when my medical professionals thought she might, but that isn’t fair. I’ve decided instead that this whole process has provided me with yet another opportunity to reflect on how I’ve reacted to unexpected changes, especially when I’ve imposed my own personal expectations on such a big life event.
I expected Hattie to arrive by now. I expected to have a midwife deliver my baby. I expected to have more done before now. I expected to feel ready. Instead? Hattie is still in my belly. I have an OB (who is awesome, but not who I had anticipated) delivering my baby. I still have a long list of things I’d like to be finished with. I don’t feel ready … I don’t think I’d ever feel ready to have a kid though. And the reality? I haven’t trusted God with my expectations, I haven’t been waiting expectantly, I’ve been expecting for things to go the way I nearly planned.
I blogged earlier on in my pregnancy about wanting to suffer better, and pay attention to moments in my pregnancy, and be patient in the in betweens. I have not been patient the last two weeks. I have been just the opposite. [Although, I will say that it hasn’t helped having lots of friends and family also anxiously awaiting the arrival of baby Hattie. Everyone means well, and that’s what I keep reminding myself, but friends, if you know someone who is just as anxious about something, telling them what they should do or should have done, does not help the situation. So I’ve had to do a lot of re-thinking about how I listen to people’s comments and suggestions on my current situation. Bottom line? I’m doing what’s best for me and Hattie.]
So in my impatience and frustration over my current state and everyone’s opinion of it, I have now worked myself up to a state of anxious friendzy that felt like it came to a head while I was driving to my acupuncture appointment this morning. I was driving my husband’s car, and the check engine light (which was already on) started flashing. Great. The car’s going to explode. I’m like 3 blocks from my appointment and I’m not going to make it. Great. This baby isn’t going to come on time because I’m going to miss this treatment. Wow. My thoughts spiraled like that, and it was all I could do to hold back tears. Well, after my appointment, I called my husband and he told me what to do with the car, I did it, and now I find myself sitting at Starbucks feeling stupid for getting so worked up.
Now that I’ve calmed down and feel like I can breathe, I’m taking that step back and am remembering that I’m still not done with the marathon. There’s still a lot ahead of me, and I’d just stayed too long at a water pit stop and didn’t keep going. Well, here’s to continuing the race and remembering what’s at the finish line … and that ultimately, while there are moments of rest, all of this is a marathon and I think I forgot that for a little while. I miss running, can you tell?
Thanks for being on this journey with me, and for encouraging me and loving me.