Still Waiting . . .

T + 12 days. Waiting is hard. Even though I completely expected to be overdue with this child, it's still hard not to be overcome by the emotions that come with waiting, waiting, waiting . . . . Here are some of the feelings that are popping up quite frequently these days:
Anxiety: Is something wrong with me that I can't deliver a baby on time? Am I too nervous, too active, too idle, too stressed, not eating well, not exercising enough . . . And what if this baby stays in me so long that he gets to be too big for me to deliver naturally . . . What if he gets meconium in his lungs . . . And what about all the other risks that increase as Baby stays in me too long. And on  the other hand, what if I get impatient and schedule an induction before he's ready to come out and end up having other complications in regards to that decision.
Defensive: Oh, by the way, even though I can wonder endlessly to myself what I might be doing wrong, nobody else better tell me what I should be doing differently--or even say anything that I interpret as being such a suggestion! No siree! Ye must all walk on pins and needles around this Mama, and watch your tongues!
Impatience: Refer to line one of this post--waiting is hard. I don't need to expound on that one.
Envy: I keep hearing of friends who have delivered early. Just tonight, I got the message that my neighbor, who wasn't due until March, had her baby. A few days ago, I called my clinic to get some medical info and found out that my doctor, who was due the exact same day I was, had her baby two weeks ago already. Just last month, my dear friend Shelley delivered her firstborn a week early (and without pain meds, I might add!). What's up with that? Why am I the one who has to deal with the stress of long-term pregnancies?
Disappointment: This is the one I've felt the most. Maybe it's because being a mother has been my lifelong dream, and I feel like the birthing process is part of the whole wonderful motherhood experience. I love the suspense--not knowing if I'm having a boy or a girl, not knowing exactly when this child will come . . . shoot, I don't even know what names we'll be choosing yet. Picking a delivery date ruins that delightful mysteriousness for me; somehow it just doesn't feel right. Ever since I found out I was pregnant, I've wondered where I'd be and what I'd be doing when that first contraction comes. I've imagined over and over the excitement of realizing that it's time! Inducing takes all that away and makes me feel that I'll be missing out on one of the joys of motherhood if I have to go that route.
Hope: Until that I.V. full of pitosin gets stuck into my arm (if it comes to that), there's still hope that the labor process might start naturally.
Resolve: When it's all been hashed and rehashed, pondered and pondered again, twisted and squeezed through my brain and rung out some more, what it comes down to is this: I want my baby to be healthy. May I never jeopardize the well-being of this special gift from God because of my own idealistic and selfish desires. When that comes to mind, the other things really don't matter. I want what's best for my child, and if that means scheduling an induction, so be it. Not knowing my delivery date is a very, very small thing in comparison to delivering a healthy little boy or girl. Either way, it will be a special and exciting time as we welcome Baby D #3 into our family.