There’s a fine line between a cute baby bump and being so uncomfortably ginormous that your walk becomes a waddle. I recently crossed that line.
With the baby’s due date just over a month away, I guess you could say we’re in the final lap of the race.
Actually, the race analogy is particularly funny because just the other day when I was looking up pain-management alternatives to the epidural, a website recommended the “eye on the prize” mentality.
Of course, they also recommended the new parents hold hands over the baby after she’s born and breathe in her new positive energy, so you might not blame me for being a little bit skeptical.
But as the numbers on the scale quickly bring me closer to my husband’s weight — because I do still weigh less than you, Josh, thank you very much — I find I’m less and less nervous about having the baby.
Even with dreams of extra limbs and taxi-cab labor, I just feel ready.
That’s also particularly funny because I’m not. We still haven’t stepped foot into the labor and delivery unit at the hospital I’m supposed to deliver in, let alone receive a tour. We haven’t taken any birthing classes. We don’t even have a diaper bag yet.
But I just feel so over this pregnancy and so ready to be a mom. Just the other day, one of my best friends had her first baby, and while overjoyed for her, I also felt strangely jealous. I want my baby now, too.
Then I remember that time and time again, God shows me His timing is just better than mine.
If I controlled when things happened in my life, I’d be halfway to world domination by now and never would have married my wonderful husband. He never would have joined the military and I never would have lived in this wonderful place.
No, I’m not ready, but when the time comes, I will be. And when the time comes, you can bet it will be the right time.