contractions

I was a little frightened Saturday morning around 1 AM, when a surprisingly strong contraction woke me. I was even more afraid as I nudged Ryan ten minutes later to 'calmly' informed him that I was writhing in pain with another, even stronger one.

This continued for two and a half hours...with me whining about the pain, but whining even more about the bad timing. I just kept saying, I can't do this yet. The baby isn't ready, the lungs aren't strong enough. Our insurance is switching this weekend. The room isn't painted, my students aren't ready, my sub plans aren't ready...I don't even know for sure who the sub is going to be!! My recital isn't for two more weeks. The baby clothes aren't even washed or packed. I'm not packed. The dirty laundry is piled up in our hamper and the clean laundry is still in baskets waiting to be folded. I haven't even shaved my legs! And my mom is out of town tonight!

And as the contractions continued to come, stronger and closer together...I realized the futility of my wishing. And I started to truly understand that I have absolutely no control over this.

Maya's birth sort-of set me up for some high expectations about how this will happen. The day before she came, I obsessively cleaned my house. When I went to bed, I had just showered, lotioned my legs, and painted my toe nails, put clean sheets on our bed. The laundry was all done, everything was spotless. Her bag and mine had been packed for weeks. My substitute was already scheduled to start the next day. And that night...she came, quickly, easily, perfectly. I even had make-up on...and my hair curled!

I think I may need to rethink my expectations for how baby #2 may arrive. But while I wait, I've started remedying some of the things I can control.

The laundry is done.
The baby's clothes are washed.
My bag is packed.
Baby's bag is packed.
The room is about half painted.
And my sub plans are almost completely written.