And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God...
This was running through my head as I was driving home from my last prenatal visit yesterday, in tears.
I don't handle pregnancy well. When I was younger, I thought of myself as a strong person. These days I realize that I had strong will confused with strength. At two weeks pregnant I was feeling well one moment, and dreadfully sick the next. It's amazing how it can come on so suddenly! In July we moved to what the locals call, "the screen door to hell." That is the nickname of Columbia, South Carolina because of the extreme humidity. There are five rivers that flow through the area, and many small bodies of water. There is also a large lake near our home. The humidity definitely intensified my sickness. Just as things were beginning to cool off in early October, the VERY painful Braxton-Hicks contractions began. And continued. And intensified. And made sleep impossible. By Christmas my mother-in-law was sure that I'd go into early labor. The baby was already almost as big as both Mercedes and Cooper were at delivery. I hoped... but no.
Yesterday the ultrasound technician informed me that the baby is now 9 pounds, 2 ounces (possibly 10 lb.) and that I have a condition called hydamnios, or too much amniotic fluid. She mentioned more than once what a strain my uterus is under. At least by that I felt validated - there's a reason for all of this pain. It's not all in my head. She said that it's good that my c -section is already scheduled, because were it not, she'd be telling them to schedule it immediately.
For the past week I've been counting down. Each night that I lay in bed in pain, not sleeping, and say to myself: "just five more nights.. just four more nights..."
After the ultrasound I was examined my the nurse practitioner who informed me that my c-section had been rescheduled. It took me a moment to process the information. WHAT????!?!?!? Yup. Luckily I didn't yell at her. I kind of just stared in shock. We've had this surgery scheduled for months. Initially I was upset that they didn't schedule it for 39 weeks. I tried to get it scheduled for the 15th or 16th, but the doctor was immovable. So we planned for the 19th. And waited.
We'll be waiting just one more day. I know that one day seems like nothing. And now that I've cried it out, I realize that it's not a big deal. Sometimes, though, it's not easy to be "submissive" and "easily entreated." Especially for me. Because of my "strong will." Brent is much better at such things... most of the time. When I got home (with a red, puffy face and bawling) he was MAD. Once Mercedes hugged and comforted me and I finished crying I was fine. I tend to have huge reactions, but then I let things go pretty easily. Brent is still mad. I think that he'll be mad about this for a while. However difficult or painful this pregnancy has been on me, I think that it's been much harder for him.
So the good news is that at 9 am on Tuesday the 20th of January, we will finally meet Lincoln Maxwell Bethers.
Just three more nights.