It’s 3 am and I am 41 weeks pregnant. That’s 2 weeks longer than my first 2 kids, and those 2 weeks have felt like eternity. I’ve been having steady contractions off and on since 36 weeks which makes it seem like over a month of labor.
In that month we found a new place to live. It came as a gift after a lot of ups and downs, wondering, stressing and praying about leases and landlords, location, timing, and finances.
God brought it all together, and as always in this adventure we live, it is happening fast. Fast enough where now I am giving myself and this baby a deadline, where I am pondering furniture and boxes and exactly where I am gonna give birth. Because I decided on a homebirth, and now I am switching homes. So much for “nesting.”
I had a momentary freak-out yesterday and my dear husband gave me a foot rub, told me to breathe and reminded me that my ancestors gave birth in covered wagons and next to battlefields. And I carry their DNA, their strength.
Then I thought of one of the most famous birth stories as I ate leftover chicken pot pie in the quiet of 3 am. I thought of Mary and how she must have been having contractions, longer and stronger and closer together and how Joseph must have felt so frustrated he couldn’t find a bed for his very pregnant wife. How they had been entrusted with this crazy precious gift and they probably thought they might have to birth him in the street.
I wonder if Mary stressed as another painful contraction rolled through her body, if she wondered if maybe she had screwed up, or what the heck God was doing, after all, this was horrible timing having to make this journey so far from home.
I often think of the quote I first heard in the beautiful movie “Bella” (which ironically revolves around pregnancy and choosing life) the quote originally by Woody Allen:
“You wanna make God laugh? Tell Him your plans.”
There is no better way to remember how little control you have then to have children. From the moment of conception, from seeing those 2 lines on the pregnancy test, you are thrown onto a chaotic ride that just doesn’t stop. And often there is vomit, too.
But birth is other-worldly. And we lose part of the wonder when we over-analyze and over-medicate and make it all about the numbers and the dates and everything lining up just right. We play into fear and wonder why the stress is too much.
Maybe it would be better just to let go of imaginary deadlines, stop trying to plan and control and just be grateful we get to partake in this incredible miracle.
Because we talk about “God’s timing” only because our limited minds are currently trapped inside of timelines. Yet our spirits are not, and neither our babies preparing to come earthside.
I know “this too shall pass” and right now there are so many lessons to be had in the waiting.
In the (once again) trusting last minute everything will fall into place.
In the embracing of the unknown because really, this is all just a great adventure.
I see it now: that moment when heaven and earth align and my body releases this brand new soul I’ve been carrying all these long months.
I smile, as tears of joy come, and then laughter from pure relief.
God laughs with me.
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