I didn't think that today would look like it does.
I thought at this point that I would have an infant girl to look after, a baby to hold.
However, she is still rolling around in my belly, making it continue to look like a basketball --- well, she tends to sit at an odd angle, making it look more like a football than a basketball from the top.
I'm still working, and gauging everything I feel, hoping that it means that it's time to finally go into labor at more than 40 weeks pregnant. But no progress on that front.
I have kept up the self-talk. God knows when this little one will be born. He has her story written. He knows what is going on inside --- if she needs a little extra time, if she needs her immunity built up. He knows what is going on at the hospital --- if a doctor needs a day off, if certain doctors and nurses need to be there and we're just waiting for that time, if we need to be a witness to someone there. He has a perfect plan, and we're just waiting for it to fall into place.
I know that I've been blessed with an easy pregnancy and to be able to carry our girl for a solid 40+ weeks. Many women wish they could get pregnant, and many others wish they could carry full term. I have nothing to complain about and everything to be thankful for.
I keep praying for patience, giving this little girl and our whole situation to him.
But I'm not perfect. I'm antsy. I want the time to be here. I have to admit to praying, "Can she please come today? I understand if it's not your will, but if there is any way possible for it to fit into your will, can she please come soon?"
This last month has been a solid lesson in the need for me to trust in God and to not plan out every detail of my life.
With COVID-19, my life hasn't looked at all like I thought it would. I don't know how to plan ahead, because I don't know what's going to happen. We're getting new information every day, and I'm thankful most of it is much more positive than anticipated. However, questions like, "When can we visit the baby?" are still not answerable. It's something we just have to take one day at a time.
Then, with our little one, I planned everything out according to her due date. I knew that a due date is just a guess and that she could be born anytime from 37-42 weeks, but I still figured at least in the last week she would have been born. We've got everything ready. We planned and prepared. But here we are, still waiting.
It's odd not having any control over the situation. You'd think with our child, in my body, there would be something I could do to help labor start. However, there's not. It's a complete waiting game. It's a complete God thing. Even doctors don't understand exactly what makes labor begin naturally. Only God can flip the ignition switch.
Taking life as it comes and trusting God one day at a time, one moment at a time has been a mantra of mine for years. I think I get better at it until something in my life goes out of my control --- well, it's always technically out of my control, but it often feels in control --- and then I have to relearn that lesson all over again.
So here we are, one moment at a time. Keeping moving, keeping trusting, repeatedly giving up control when I take it back again.
I know you've got this, Lord. Help me to concentrate on that. One moment at a time.
