People, I am one day overdue. One short day past my due date. And you would not believe how much sorry-feeling-for-myself such a simple, silly fact like that can bring on in my muddled emotions.
This is not what I had planned. My first contraction (Tuesday night) would have been, in my own plans, the beginning of a 24-hour-or-less labor. My daughter would have been in my arms many hours and days ago. My parents would be taking care of my son and my house while I take care of my daughter.
Instead, here we all sit. Watching Zachary play. Wondering if our baby girl will ever decide to make her entrance. Fielding calls from family and friends wondering if they 'missed the big news'. I know it's dumb, but it feels just a teensy bit hopeless today, now that my 'due date' has passed, I guess I feel like there are no more deadlines on her (not that there truly ever were). I feel like she'll never come now. Plus, I haven't had any big contractions last night or today, so that fact doesn't help.
Friends have been so encouraging on Facebook, and Twitter, and I know others who have gone much farther past their due dates, and are much more uncomfortable than I. And I know others who are grieving losses this week, as I should be rejoicing in the fact that I am still plumply pregnant with a healthy baby girl.
I know my feelings are wrong, but still I feel them. Time to pour them out to God, and let Him heal me, and remind me that all is under His control, and in His time.