ranty 41 week post

I was trying to hold off posting again until I had some baby news, but that doesn't seem to be on the immediate horizon and in the meantime I've neglected blogging about some major events around here. Not only did we celebrate Liam's 8th birthday, some friends held a baby shower for me, and my mom and aunt arrived from Canada. Our first guests! My aunt was only able to stay for five days, but we managed to pack in a fair bit of sightseeing and Colombian culture. My mom is here until late July and it's been so great to have her here. More detailed posts (and pictures!) will come.

Speaking of she-who-has-finally-been-named (but whose name will remain a closely guarded secret), although yet to be born SHE'S ALREADY FRUSTRATING US. Clearly she's inherited a stubborn streak from her father me both her parents.  

Or it could be that I just have such a comfy uterus that she's disinclined to leave.

Alternately, she could be afraid of THE HEIGHTENED LEVELS OF CRAZY the boys have exhibited lately... 

Personally, I think she's scared to come out.

Or maybe she was just waiting for me to write this post about her... knowing these thoughts would immediately get lost in those first days and months with a new little soul earth side...

* * * * * * * * * * 

If we're friends on Facebook or Twitter, you'll have had to listen to me whine about the seemingly eternal cold I've been dealing with. Not even so much the cold, but the blasted cough that's accompanied it. I just couldn't shake it. My throat was raw, my non-existent abdominal muscles were in shreds, and I could hardly breathe without a fit of coughing. 

I joked that when I came time to push, I'd just cough the baby out.

While my aunt was here, she offered to do a "healing hands" session with me. Although not something that I was familiar with, it was essentially a time of really deliberate, directed, healing prayer. After coughing for over a month, I was more than willing to give it a try. I'd love to say that I was immediately healed of my cold, that wasn't what happened.

I was given a different gift, however. One that I didn't even realize I was needing. 

While my aunt placed her hands on me and prayed, I was able to forced to be lay quietly and be still and think and reflect and pray myself. What became evident in that quiet time is that, regardless of our anxiousness (is that a word?) for this baby to come and our concerns for the timing of our trip back to Canada to find a new house, we have to remember that God has a plan for us.

In regards to finding a place to live, the thought of landing in Ottawa as a family of six without a home to go to does make me nervous. Yet I've been increasingly reminded how clear it's been over the last four years that we're exactly where we should be. Too many things have fallen too perfectly into place for it to be coincidence. Far too many.

The time to reflect on the past and God's faithfulness was such a gift, as was the peace it brought...

* * * * * * * * * *

The above was all written over the last probably 10 days, in bits and pieces. Fast forward two weeks to this morning... I'm either 41 weeks 1 day (by my calculations) or 41 weeks on the nose (by the doctor's). Either way, I THOUGHT WE'D HAVE HAD THIS BABY BY NOW. As much as I try to hold onto that sense of peace from that morning with my aunt, it's gone.

I'm done.

Physically, I honestly feel pretty good. True, the novelty of this big belly as a constant fashion accessory has waned significantly, the nightly heartburn is getting old, and -as predicted- the ultrafirm mattress the embassy supplied us with is not kind to my hips... but generally I'm not that uncomfortable. Physically I'm sure I could do this for several more weeks...

But emotionally? Mentally? I'm just done.

The waiting and hoping has changed to anxiety and impatience (my control-freak nature is not helping!).

Prayers are now straight out pleading and begging.

Excitement is quickly becoming resentment.

I don't need to be reminded that some day I'll miss being pregnant and wish I could once again feel a new little person growing inside of me.  I know that will be the case. I have several friend who are in that boat right now or who have struggled to get pregnant or maintain a pregnancy. I know this baby is a gift. I know that. But I also know that every woman reaches a point where they're done.

I'm done.

Peter has been amazing at getting up in the morning and getting the boys' breakfast and getting them ready for school on his own the past week or so. We normally do this together, but he's been letting me sleep. But this morning (even though I was awake) I just stayed in bed alternating between praying begging and having a big pity party. Then I got up and sat at the computer crying when I realized that unless baby girl decides to come TODAY we risk not having time to get her birth records and passport in order in time for our house hunting trip in July. If we can't return to Canada early July, we'll likely be landing in Ottawa at the end of August WITH FOUR KIDS but no home.

I'm tired and stressed and emotional and frustrated AND ALL THESE HORMONES aren't helping. Our doctor will want me to go either today or tomorrow for another ultrasound and other monitoring (likely a non-stress test) which "will buy me another four days" if it all comes back fine. If not, I guess it will be some sort of induction, however I'm not sure what process they use down here. While -as mentioned above- I'm don't being pregnant, I'm also not comfortable with the option of induction. Nathaniel's birth was a c-section, so even though I've had two vaginal deliveries since then, this is still considered a VBAC.

*sigh*

I'm just tired of this.