The Waiting Game

I wrote this post approximately 36 hours before my water broke in the comfort of my own home. Baby is here and healthy and my birth story will be posted in due time. In the meantime I’d like to share my thoughts on the end of pregnancy, and how it felt to go past my due date. 

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photo credit: Jessica May Photography

There’s a reason so many women become batty towards the end of their pregnancy.

The waiting is hard. The waiting can siphon away your energy like a leech drinking blood, a leech you can’t rip off until he’s gotten enough. The waiting can keep you home all day and awake at night. The waiting can send you to google for every strange sensation. The waiting can consume you.

When you’re waiting for a baby it’s easy for the rest of the world to fall away. It could happen any minute. It could start today or in a week. Your universe hinges on the baby’s arrival.

There you hang. By the thread that holds baby inside. Stretching thinner with every passing second.

For me, the waiting is harder the second time around. I am completely aware of all the ways my life is about to change. I know the pain and the power and the ultimate joy to be found in birth. I know how it feels for a baby to descend through the birth canal and widen my pelvic bones and latch onto my breast for the first time. I know the flood of oxytocin and the bliss of life with a newborn.

I can’t wait and yet I must. I can’t wait and yet I want to. Life in the womb is perfect and whole, fleeting and full. I am full of baby and I love it. Once she comes out, there’s no going back. I will miss her being inside, submerged in the fluid of life, submerged in me.

Still, I can’t help but feel like everything is on hold. It’s like depression in that all of my usual interests do not hold the same appeal. In the mornings I don’t want to work out. In the evenings I don’t want to write. I stopped wearing makeup and (maternity) jeans. Come 3 AM you can find me in the kitchen eating yogurt or reading a novel. I go to the bathroom four or five times or more per night. In order to get a decent night’s sleep I have to be in bed for at least 10 hours because I spend so much time awake, waiting for slumber, listening for the pop. Literally. Giovanna’s arrival started with an early morning pop that woke me from my slumber, the breaking of my waters that brought the immediate onset of contractions.

And I’m most likely waiting for the wrong thing. Each birth is as unique as each person. There’s no use in trying to predict when or how she will come. Just like birth will necessitate a profound letting go, enjoying these last few days (hours? weeks?) of pregnancy requires that I let go of my agenda, my predictions and especially my fears.

I’ve been told by more than one person close to me that I seem very calm about my pregnancy and birth. I took this sentiment as the utmost of compliments. Because this is how I want to bring my child into this world: peacefully. Upon a billow of faith.

Yes, I am calm. I trust my baby to choose the right moment and I trust my body to do the work.

As long as my water doesn’t break in this Starbucks.

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6 thoughts on “The Waiting Game

  1. I remember feeling that way with my second- especially since I knew she’d be my last. Each phase with her, I think, slow down. She’s taught me to be slow and be okay with waiting.

    Congrats on your new little one.

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    1. Thank you. I find myself watching her sleep, trying to remember everything about her tiny face. And then I look at my older daughter and I try to remember…it’s so hard to believe she was this small only 4 years ago. They change so much. I’m trying to soak it up.

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  2. such memories from being pregnant with both of my boys…Sophia was a month early and it was so wonderful, both boys were right on time and those last days were just as you described…”nothing before it’s time” (Maya Angelou) – congratulations on your newest blessing!

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