I think it is safe to say that most of us have a small bit of trouble with the unknown. And there is nothing more unknown than your doctor telling you on a Monday morning at 37 weeks that you are 1-2 cm dilated, cervix 80% effaced, with the baby’s head right there. “Ready to go,” he said.
My husband, Nick, has warned me to not use Dr. Google. But sometimes, in the middle of the night, I can’t help myself to look at ghostly forums from years past of women writing out their stories and opinions, women whom I will never meet.
What I learned was that this information (baby ready to go) means I could have a baby in two hours or two weeks. “But just not on Christmas?” I asked. “Only God knows,” my doctor reminded me.
It’s two days before Christmas. Our house is clean. I have the best husband in the galaxy for all the physical labor he has put into preparing our home. We call this “nesting.” Old wives tales have said that there is a sign, before a woman goes into labor, that she will nest like no other. It’s her adrenaline and animal instincts that kick in. If you have ever seen a birth from a soon-to-be mother hamster, you will notice the little mama shreds toilet paper, and burrows a safe spot to birth her babies. Cats and dogs will go off and hide in a safe place. And according to Google, expectant human mothers have been known to rearrange their cabinets by alphabetical order and take a toothbrush to scrub the corners of their bathrooms. OCD has never really been my thing, so all toothbrushes have been spared. If anything, I’m lucky that Nick has more of that OCD thing, and the loose pine needles plaguing our new rug has been quite the hindrance.
People will ask me, “When will this baby come?”
Although I missed the OCD gene, I, at the beginning of pregnancy, had more of a desire to control outcomes. And if I have learned one thing, it is that I am not in control. Really, it’s up to God. It’s up to this baby. I’m just the vessel. Ready to hold this little man, whenever he decides to pick his birthday.
And to the people that have said, “Oh no, what if he is a Christmas baby?”
What if he is?
I’ve really changed my attitude on this. We all have that power, to change our attitudes. We can’t always pick the outcome, but we can change how we view outcomes, whatever they end up being.
If my baby were to share the day with Jesus, then I think that is a pretty good omen for his life. Part of the reason we picked his name, Bennett, was because of its meaning. It is derived from the Latin name Benedictus, which means blessed. No matter when our baby comes into the world, he will be blessed. Because he will be loved. He is loved. He has been loved before he was ever conceived.
Going into this Christmas, I hope we can all share our love for others, for ourselves, for our savior, Jesus.
Merry Christmas, lovelies. May we all experience a Christmas blessing.
…To Be Continued