The Waiting Game

Who needs a preggo picture of me when my youngest can imitate me just fine?

About this time in all my pregnancies, I start freaking myself out about possible scenarios that could arise when I actually go into labor.  


With my first, I was not only on bed rest, but my husband was having to work a summer job nearly 2 hours away during the week and only able to come home on weekends.  Luckily, I had my in-laws nearby to take care of me, but still...  I just knew I was going to go into labor in the middle of the night --a stormy night no less-- where he'd have to drive over a treacherous pass and possibly die, or else I would have the baby when he was working out of cell phone range and he'd miss the whole thing... and of course my mind came up with many other such scenarios.  As it was, his car broke down on one occasion, and my refrigerator died that same day (and they kept telling me to not stress myself out. Ha!) But things got fixed, and as far as the labor and delivery went... I ended up going a week over and got induced, so there were no surprises there.  


With my second, I worried about how my toddler would handle things, and although we had family around to take care of him, I remember writing up a huge and very detailed schedule --to keep things routine and predictable, of course-- and list of meal options that I knew he would eat so he wouldn't starve.  (I'm really not a control freak.  In fact it makes me laugh to look at how anal that list was.)  In addition to worrying about that transition (which in the end was probably harder for me than anyone else) I also worried that the baby would come when my husband was teaching his first day of class (which was scheduled the same day as my due date) and make things complicated.  However, everything worked out perfectly.  I woke up on a beautiful Sunday --the day before my due date-- at about 4 in the morning with regular contractions, called my husband's parents by five, had time to pack my hospital bag (I know, shame on me for putting it off) and take a quick shower --I even shaved my legs, and left the house by 6:30 with the in-laws perfectly capable of taking care of my son (who, though a little confused, was really delighted to see them, and for weeks afterward kept hoping they would be there when he woke up).  And, I should mention that though the schedule was lost, he didn't die from missing a nap or a snack, or eating nothing but sweets all day (I'm exaggerating here, I have no idea what he ate, but in the end it didn't matter). The baby was born by 3 in the afternoon, and my husband was able to go back home and put our toddler to bed (which was the part of his schedule I worried about most) and teach his classes the next morning just fine.


So now with number three, do I have worries?  With less than three weeks to go, you bet I do! I still worry about going into labor when my husband is working out of cell phone range and having to drive myself and the kids to the hospital or something, or having him around but ending up giving birth in the back of our minivan because we don't live two minutes from the hospital like we always did before... I have lots more where that came from, but in addition to labor and delivery fears, did I mention that we're supposed to move to a different state less than two weeks after my due date and I haven't found a place to live yet...?  Yikes!


Really, I should take comfort in how the Lord has taken care of us in the past.   Deep down, I know that things will work out --and even if they don't, they'll still work out.  That's actually my husband's motto, and although it annoyed me at first, it's always rung true, reminding me that although things may not go as ideally as we plan, God is in charge and whatever He chooses to put us through will either turn out better than we had imagined, or at least be for our good.