It's Crunch Time

I didn't think I would be posting three days after my due date without a picture of our baby. 

I really had myself brainwashed convinced I would have our fourth on his due date, too.

My Diet Coke knows what's up

Here I am, though, trying to muster what patience I have to continue the waiting process. It's only three days after my due date! To think so many women go 10, 12, even a full two weeks after, amazes me. I have new empathy for them, because this is terribly hard.

It doesn't help that I've been having prodromal labor -- stop-and-start contractions at night that dissipate during the day. I get a completely destroyed night's sleep but no baby to enjoy come the morning. I'm trying to tell myself that such discomforts will bear some fruit eventually: that every pain will help get my body ready when I go into full-on labor. It's a steep learning curve.

What a blessing it has been to have my Mom here since Wednesday night! She has taken over much of the childcare, as I am either too spaced out from exhaustion, or too mentally preoccupied, to be much fun. 

Yet despite the company of their beloved Nana, the kids are coming unhinged. They know something big is coming, they see me acting oddly, and Patrick distracted too. Not only are they eager to meet this baby just like us, they are also eager to see the end of this limbo time we're all trapped in.

I have been so warmed by the offers of prayer and material help, though. Many friends offered to watch our children, particularly if I went into labor before my mom arrived, a friend and neighbour has offered to coordinate hot meals being dropped off at my door when my mom and dad leave, and even complete strangers are coming up and telling me they will pray for me. Pregnancy does make a woman vulnerable, and sometimes it's downright embarrassing. But, often, it brings the amazing gift of other people's love and generosity to the surface. 

In order to keep our mind on other things for the time being, we spent an afternoon in Combermere on Sunday, shopping at St. Joe's and the gift shop and having tea with the ever-hospitable St. Joe's ladies. They plied us with homemade maple syrup doughnuts. Words can not express that amazing delight.

While we were in the gift shop, Isaiah walked up to a large statue of the Sacred Heart, probably about my height and said, "hey God, how are your cuts healing?" It was so sweet and innocent. 

(Don't worry, his hair is supposed to look like that. It was Wacky Hair day at school.)

Anna is completely wrapped up in love with her baby brother. It is just darling to hear such a small child talk unprompted about how she can't wait to hold her little brother. We've read lots of books about having a new baby in the family. Also, the necessary episode of Daniel Tiger's Neighbourhood when he meets his own younger sibling helped to cement the notion of this impending miracle in her mind. And I, the sap that I am, can't watch it without getting choked up.

(Her hair, mind you, is NOT supposed to look like that)

Noah talks excitedly about the new baby, too, but of all the children, he has the most awareness that there is a great deal of sacrifice involved. He told me recently "I hope this is our last one." I felt sorry immediately -- what have I said or done to make him resent having brothers and sisters? He followed up that statement with, "Because then you wouldn't have to be in so much pain again."

We've done all I can think of. The baby's cradle is set up, a dresser full of sweet clothes have been neatly folded and stashed away, a changing station has been assembled in our bedroom. I've eaten more jalapenos in the last few days than I care to admit, plus have covered myself in clary sage oil, eaten whole pineapples, gone on long walks, told the baby he needs to come out... I've run out of ideas except just patience and prayer, neither of which are my strong suit.

The only thing I can think of is this:

Here you are, Little One, the youngest child in a family of the three sweetest, funniest children I know. They love you fiercely and are anxious to meet you. Won't you come out and meet us all? 

(We think today would be nice! It's the Feast of St. Anthony, who is a key patron to all of us absent-minded Craines. If not today, then someday this work-week, please? Your other grandmother, your aunt and uncle and your Gooey are coming just before the weekend, and it would be a shame if they had to leave for Nova Scotia again without getting to hold you first!)

We love you, little Baby!