Tom Petty had it right when he crooned, "the waiting is the hardest part." I wearily admit that I am not one for patience, it is regrettably not one of the fruits most evident in my daily walk. Coming down to the last few weeks of pregnancy is, well, hard. I know it's not time yet, and yet I want it to be time. And then in the blink of an eye, I don't. I'm really enjoying this pregnancy and purposing to savor what moments I have with my other two children. But then I look down and see this baby that I can hardly believe has been present inside of me for nearly forty entire weeks. Has it really been that long, already?
Mixed emotions for sure, hormonal surges left and right, and uncertain expectations of what our new normal will encompass - all part and parcel of the blessing of pregnancy and the realization that we will be entrusted with a new life to shepherd and love. It's enough for anyone to go a little insane, right?
I'm waiting on her arrival and praying in the meantime.
Albeit both anxiously and with slight annoyance.
39 weeks, 3 days