This week has been an emotional one. Now being considered full term, I’ve been eager to get the labor process started and meet this little gal. My husband and family are all on high alert; any time I call one of them I have to start the conversation with “still pregnant” or “nothing is going on”. Everyone is ready to spring into action, we just need this baby to be here.
I think we’re all ready to put this PAL journey behind us and begin living (hopefully) life with this sweet baby.
I’ve tried almost everything in the book to encourage labor to start. Taking lots of walks, cleaning the house, eating pineapple, eating spicey food (I ate so much on one day that my throat became raw), natural supplements and tinctures, bouncing on the birth ball, “extra-curricular” marital activities (haha)… you name it, I’ve probably tried it.
It’s been hard not to get discouraged because when I was pregnant with Toby all it took was trying all these things in one day, sort of like a Hail Mary pass, and twenty four hours later I was in labor. No such luck this time.
Of course I understand the whole “baby will come when its ready, don’t rush things” concept. The hard thing is that I spent so much of the pregnancy worrying that baby would stay inside of me until it was safe to come out, and now that it is safe for her to come out I almost feel like she would actually be safer on the outside where I can see her and observe her. I worry that I won’t have to emotional strength to face birth if things go on for a long time.
Needless to say my patience is being put to the test, for sure. There are good days, and not so good days.
And then there are days like two days ago when I felt completely helpless and guilty for being pregnant at all; my best friend, and her sister, both experienced miscarriages within the same week. Both pregnancies were a surprise, but extremely welcome surprises; my best friend and her husband have been trying to have a baby for years. I was beyond excited for her when she told me. But of course, being the loss mom that I am I immediately began covering her (and her sister, when I found out about her pregnancy as well) in tons of prayer. I didn’t want to think about either of them “joining the club”. When I received word about what had happened my heart just sank, and all I could do was cry and tell my friend that I love her and I’m here for her.
Even though I’ve been through what she’s been through- twice- it didn’t make me feel like an expert who had the magic words to soothe her soul.
As I sit here, 38weeks large and crossing my fingers and toes that this baby will come out soon, I am reminded how long it’s taken to even get to this point. I’m so incredibly thankful for all of my children, even the ones that aren’t here. They have given me the chance to experience love in the most surreal ways. I’m reminded of something someone told me in the time following Zuri’s passing; that the depth of our grief is a result of how much we love that person.