Disappointed. And yet still hopeful.

So here we are, at one day shy of 41 weeks and still pregnant.

Not that I don't love being pregnant (I really do!); I just REALLY want to see my little one face to face.  It's tough to explain how you can love a little person growing inside you so much without ever really meeting him/her, yet in pregnancy, it's what happens.  Both Raleigh and I love Little E so much already, and that love is compounded each and every day at what feels like an exponential rate.  And just like a gift that we know we'll get to open on one special day in the hopefully-not-too-distant future (and not a moment sooner), we are now waiting.

Waiting, waiting, and waiting.

Not just waiting for his/her arrival, but for ANY sign that he/she is actually coming!  I know things can change quickly (and thankfully so, or else all hope we'll get to meet our little one before spring might be lost by now!), however after hearing the doctor say today that I'm "behind" where most people are at this stage in the game (some cervical softening, but still no dilation), I haven't been able to feel much anything else other than disappointment and frustration.  I don't necessarily believe I'm doing anything wrong, but I am honestly unable to say that it feels like I'm doing anything right either.  I mean, how could/can I not be doing better so as to at least make sure that I'm physically progressing in some way that could support Little E in making his/her appearance when ready?  I know that a good percentage of first time moms deliver past their due date, however even by the doctor's admission, most of them are at least showing signs of moving towards labor and delivery.  Not me, though . . . I'm (at least per what the doctors can tell) as far away from that important benchmark as I was nearly 2 months ago.  In some ways, I'm feeling much like my dilation status--ZERO.

Although it may sound harsh and a bit dramatic, it almost feels like I'm hindering Little E's arrival somehow.  Physically I'm certainly not helping any, no matter how hard I try.  (Trust me, we've done it all--walking, walking, walking . . . pineapple, mango, spicy food . . . sex . . . visualization and verbal encouragement, positive affirmations . . . walking, walking, and more walking . . .)  And my lack of physical progress has also hindered the doctors from helping too (no stripping of the membranes with a closed cervix, I'm afraid), so it seems that I'm just "stuck" from every which end.

And emotionally--well, if this blog is any indicator--I'm just barely hanging in there.  I felt pretty good after leaving the doctor's office this noon, knowing that baby is still healthy and doing well (that is the important part, right?) and that under no uncertain terms can Little E stay in my belly forever . . . HOWEVER, as the afternoon has worn on and I've processed what he said . . . well, I can look at no one (or nothing) else as being responsible for my current condition (or lack thereof) and despite the words of consolation and/or encouragement from others, feel like I'm letting them down too.  My mom is hanging on to every text message or phone call as if it was my last (I picture her jumping onto her phone with each ring as a voracious tiger would leap on its next meal), and we're getting lots of friendly inquiries wondering how things are going and if baby has made his/her appearance yet.  "No," "Nothing yet," "Not a thing," and/or "Feeling fine and still no baby" have become regular components of nearly every conversation.  It's hard.  In some ways, I feel like the messenger of bad news to not only myself, my spouse, but also all our friends and family who are anxiously (and excitedly) awaiting the arrival of our little angel with us.  (Sigh)  I look forward to the moment when I can meet Little E face to face, bask in the joy of being a mother and (with Raleigh) family of three, and share the great news to all who care about and love us.

Until then, I keep praying for peace and the ability to truly (and I do mean truly) surrender to God's timing of it all.  In writing in my journal yesterday I realized that the conception of our little one was not according to our calendar, but His, and that just the same, I should remember (and trust) that His calendar still trumps ours (and for the right reasons too).  I mean, why should I now--of all times--suddenly be in complete control of a process that I've really only been privileged to experience because of His amazing grace and awesome love?  Why do I feel the need to take the reigns now, when we're just about to cross over onto a completely different journey and embark on an entirely new adventure?  He hasn't left us yet, and won't now . . . so why am I pushing for more autonomy?  Things might go a bit smoother if I take a step back and realize that maybe the reason I feel like I'm not in control of anything is because I'm not and remember that is a GOOD thing . . .

Ironic, huh?

Anyways, there it is.  I'm disappointed we're not "further along" and yet still hopeful that something will happen, sooner rather than later if possible.  And if not--well, it's not like I'm doing well pushing things in that direction, either.  I guess the Big One upstairs and our Little One inside are collaborating on just when exactly is the most perfect time to appear . . .