So despite my week-ago meltdown, last week went surprisingly well. We kept up with our little routine, as I tried not to get my hopes up with every contraction, and I just held on to really the only hope that I have at this point: he has to come out eventually!
Last night, however, I felt my faith falter. It had been a good weekend (hey, any weekend where your husband does all the nesting that you want done is good, right?), and I was in good spirits, then I started thinking. Dangerous. Deep down in my heart of hearts I wanted this baby to come before today, and I really thought that God would honor that wish.
My Dad is headed back to Canada for another few weeks tomorrow early, and I really wanted him to meet his first grand-SON (the first boy born into our family) freshly hatched. I didn't realize how much until last night when I realized that the contractions that had been coming so consistently had decided to take a break. And I got frustrated. And felt out of control.
It's back to my same old problem: I am the oldest. I am the boss. I know what's best for me and all of you. That's right-I said all of you, and it really would be in your best interest to just accept that fact!! And somehow I have to relinquish that part of who I am in order to be right with God (pretty much hourly), because He really is the oldest and the boss and knows what's best for me and all of you.
I hate not being the boss.
On the positive side (I hope), I have an appointment with my midwife this afternoon. I am praying for the boldness to tell her what I want and what I feel would be best for my family. Here I go again being the boss. . .
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