I'm scheduled to deliver this baby via c-section on Sunday, August 16th at 9am. (Mark your calendars! Prayers appreciated!) That gives me five days to groan and gripe and worry about all the things that will probably not go awry.
Looking back, sure, these last nine months have flown by. It's easy to gestate a human when you have mere days getting checked off the calendar. Since this is my last (to my knowledge) pregnancy, I've tried my utmost to caress my growing midsection with patience and gratitude, knowing these violent jabs to my ribs and aching hips/back are oh-so-temporary.
But, I'm ready.
|From 6 weeks to 39 weeks! WHOA MAMA!|
(Isn't the human body freaking amazing?!)
I'm eager to meet this little blessing in my belly, ready to smooch her face and nibble on her toes until others around me start to feel uncomfortable by my level of adoration (mothers understand this limitless ability to gawk at their newborn).
I'm ready to not be stopped in my tracks with Braxton Hicks or require a million pillows and a pulley-system to simply roll over in my own bed. I'm ready to see my toes again and enjoy a glass of wine with dinner. I'm ready to have my anxieties shift from pregnant worries to external concerns about parenting another new life. Bring it on!
It bewilders me to think that only 9 months ago I didn't know what this week held in store for me. That I thought my plate was full then, and my emotional capacity was brimming with everything I knew about at that moment.
But, when a new body grows within your own body, you start to realize how absolutely beyond your control most things are. While this pregnancy hasn't lacked pains or challenges, I had nothing to do with the cell-building, nerve-developing, bone-growing miracle that took place right under my heart (literally).
I've always been pretty darn good at worrying. It doesn't keep me from doing much, but it doesn't mean the fear isn't present. Worry is familiar territory for most mothers, and it's step-sisters Doubt and Anxiety are always nearby. They love to team up and try to steal away joy and hope and confidence, and if I'm not prayerful about staying aware of their whereabouts I can easily find myself entertaining them.
Then, I look down. I see this giant beach ball churning under my shirt and I'm instantly reminded how I did NOTHING to grow this human. Hands. Feet. Heart. BRAIN. All neatly woven together while I waddled through my day, working on school and household chores, showering and cooking, driving and walking, wolfing down cheeseburgers like I was making up for the vegetarians of the world. All but ignorant of the minute intricacies that were being constructed atom by atom as my new little person formed within.
That's how I grew this human in 9 easy months. I worried while God worked. I trusted while God constructed. I hoped while God created. I don't know who this person is in me. I don't know what she looks like or how she will act or behave or who she will grow up to be. But, I've loved her from before I knew she existed - something else I've had no control over.
I can't wait to have this baby and introduce her to the world. I can't wait to announce her arrival with triumph and celebration. It's a wonderful feeling to exchange my worries for wonder, and as my final pregnancy concludes this weekend, I'm grateful for the last 9 months of ups and downs to carry this baby into the world that awaits her.