A Lesson in Patience and Humility

As you may have noticed, I sometimes get my titles from lines in classic songs. I briefly considered titling this post “Anticipation” a la Carly Simon, and I also considered “My bags are packed…” even though I’m not leaving on a jet plane and at this point I’ve cut down the amount of junk I take the hospital down to one bag. The point is that I am still pregnant, even though I really don’t want to be at this point.

I am just shy of 39 weeks, so I’m not even overdue. Most of the time I don’t even feel that uncomfortable, thanks to the warm weather enabling me to forgo socks. I’m actually sleeping better than I was three weeks ago or so. Since she’s more cramped in there, little bits isn’t stretching me inside out (literally) quite as much. There’s no reason to be concerned or miserable at this point. Yet I still find myself whining ten times a day that “I want this baby out of me!”

I think at this point the mental stress of waiting is getting to all of us. My older daughter wakes up every morning hoping that I won’t be here (I don’t take it personally); she wants to meet her new baby sister and she mistakenly thinks that my absence will result in a world without rules for two or three days. My younger daughter is excited at the idea of Memaw and Papaw coming to visit us from Kentucky and possibly taking her to Chuck E. Cheese. My parents are on stand-by to make the six hour drive; their bags are packed, my mom’s keeping up on laundry, and she has notes ready to go out to the paper boy and mail man. My mother-in-law is putting off repairs and installations to her new apartment that she just moved into three days ago in case I go into labor. My husband is getting more and more anxious, especially as his semester is coming to a close. He’s got student papers coming in and exams coming up; it’s his most stressful time of any semester without adding the wild card of labor and delivery into the mix.

So we have tried a little home induction, and I think we were a little over-confident that it would work. We accidentally induced our first baby at home, and we tried to schedule our second baby’s birth for our convenience and the method worked again. So we got a little cocky, and I mentioned to everyone that I hoped to get this baby out yesterday. Literally, I thought this baby would be born on May 2nd. It didn’t work, though. All of the signs for the past few months pointed to our little old fashioned method working like a charm for the third time, but here I am still with child. I must admit that I feel a little embarrassed and wish I would have just kept my mouth shut.

I am beginning to think that this whole pregnancy has been God giving all of us a lesson in patience and humility. As we told our older daughter, we didn’t plan this pregnancy; God did. God just busted through two forms of birth control. (humility) Then at my 20-week ultrasound the specialist found cysts in the baby’s brain and excess fluid on her kidneys; we were told that these were markers for two different genetic disorders. This led to two more ultrasounds over the next 12 weeks in which everything completely cleared up. (humility and patience). And now our little home induction method has failed us. We tried to rush nature, play God; now we are learning a new lesson in humility and patience.

So here I sit. My bag is packed. The house is relatively clean, and I’m really trying to keep it that way. I guess I’ll be making a grocery trip this weekend after all, so I better start getting a list together. I may even be able to get that new air filter put in the mini-van. Provided it doesn’t get rained out, older daughter has a t-ball game today. And I started re-reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, so I am trying to surrender myself to God’s timing for this baby to come. I should just be thankful that my baby is healthy and pray for a healthy delivery.

Explore posts in the same categories: Parenting, Religion

One Comment on “A Lesson in Patience and Humility”

  1. Kelly Says:

    Waiting is terrible, isn’t it? I actually went about three days past my due date with my third. It sounds like nothing major, but my first was 5 weeks early, my second was one week early, and with my third I’d been walking around 5 cm dilated since 36 weeks. I thought there was NO WAY I’d still be pregnant on my due date.

    But he did come out eventually. Be consoled. They always come out eventually.

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