Musings of an Overdue Momma...

I’ve decided three things about my baby boy today. Either he is strong-willed and stubborn, laid-back and content, or a planner like his mom. There just has to be a reason he is staying put past his due date! It’s beautiful outside and I personally think it would be a lovely day for a birth. This baby, however, seems to think otherwise…

Or maybe this is God’s way of teaching Beau and I, the soon-to-be parents, a few things. Patience is a difficult virtue to have, especially when our ‘patience’ has been running on empty since about the time that crib was finished. Or more importantly, I think He is teaching me to be prepared to handle the lack of control I will soon feel as a parent. Although I can indeed plan what is taught in my classroom, how clean my house is, and what I am bringing along to the hospital, there are some, more important things that are simply out of my control. Such is parenting. Such is life.

Today, and every day in between, is a bit of a test for me. A test of my attitude, to remain positive even though I am simply sick of staring at the stretch marks in the mirror every morning, sick of wearing the same two pair of pants, and sick of rolling from side to side in the middle of the night. This is time for me to soak in the little moments with Beau, the last little moments of being two. 

Last night, we decided to move our neighborhood walk to a new location. We drove to Pipac Lake, a really pretty area west of town. We walked and walked and walked until it got dark outside and my effortless stride evolved to a full-on waddle. I was determined to walk until the baby came out; however, he didn’t. And probably for good reason. Instead of being so bound and determined to play God in this pregnancy, I needed to instead focus on the small things about that walk. The warmth of Beau’s hoodie over my head. The way the sun set directly over the lake and created this perfectly calm sparkle of golds, and blues, and greens. The soft sounds of the ducks wading in the lake. And my husband, bless his heart, for trying to figure out his place within the next few days of this pregnancy. I love him desperately for everything he is, and everything he is trying to be as he, too, tries to figure out what it means to be a dad...

Last night, I spent some time looking at my pictures from last year at this time. Pictures of short shorts, tailgates, and late nights. It’s so funny that a year ago, I was excited about scoring the purple and gold cans of Bud Light for UNI tailgates, and this year, excitement involves the dilation of my cervix. Life is changing and sometimes, I’m moving too fast to even realize it.

I know that soon, I will have a difficult time remembering what these last few weeks were like. Soon, my mind will be consumed by breast-feedings, sleep patterns (or lack thereof), and a little baby completely dependent on us. Because of this, this week is about slowing down and breathing.  About another marathon walk in the park, a bubble bath, and an early bedtime.  

I can make it.  I will rock 40 weeks. 

And we will continue to work on our labor faces.  I'd say Beau has some work to do...