The Due Date

This has been a hard week–a weird, hard week. This week I was supposed to be huge, uncomfortable, and anxiously awaiting the arrival our sweet baby girl. Esteban was supposed to be jumping at every phone call, ready to rush home to get his wife to the hospital. Abi was supposed to be preparing to spend a couple of days with Abuelo and Abuela while her parents were at the hospital giving her a brand new baby sister. I was supposed to be paying attention to every pull, twinge and cramp, hoping for one that I would deem a “contraction.” Tomorrow was supposed to be the day that our girl would arrive. Tomorrow is my due date.

And instead of doing any of those things, I sat with an Early Intervention Specialist and discussed how we would evaluate my almost 4-month old to determine her eligibility for services. Instead of giving birth to a squishy newborn, I am looking at my 40 week old, trying to figure out exactly how old she is developmentally. Is she 0? Just born? 3 weeks? A month? When will she smile? When will she coo? Is this her 3 week growth spurt? Will she have growth spurts? How old is she? Don’t get me wrong–we are so, so thankful. I know that of all the ways that this scenario could have played out, we have been blessed with the absolute best picture at this point. But I have still found myself mourning the loss of my pregnancy once again. This week I have longed for all of the discomfort, anxiety, suspense, pain, excitement and joy–did I mention discomfort?–of those last weeks. I wanted that. That was what was supposed to happen. I was not supposed to start having those familiar pains, that tightening that immediately signifies labor at only 22 weeks pregnant.

God’s plan is good. God’s plan is better. But knowing that doesn’t always make facing the reality of unfilled dreams and desires any easier. Sometimes we mourn. We cry. We yell. Sometimes we’re angry and confused. Sometimes we question. And, God–He hears us. He knows our pain and our disappointment. He doesn’t try to take it away or make us feel better with empty words or sympathetic eyes. He hears us, He holds us, He carries us. And then His still small voice reminds us that His plan is always better. And that even though what we wanted was good, what He has had planned since before the beginning of time is better. And there is a reason for it. We might never know the reason–in fact we probably won’t. But take joy in the fact that God will use our thwarted plans for His glory and His good.

So tomorrow I’ll feel sad, confused. I’ll imagine what it would have been like to meet Ana then, instead of the way we did almost 4 months ago. To have been able to hold her and snuggle her right away, and marvel at her tiny features. I’ll put my hands on my empty abdomen and imagine the enormous swelling of a full term baby ready to meet the world. And then I’ll look into the sweet face of my miracle and thank God over, and over, and over again for His unmerited favor. I’ll thank God for sparing her life. For her health. For the gift of being her Mommy. And God, would you help me to allow that gratitude to take up the most room in my heart? To push those feelings of sadness, bitterness and pain just a little further to the outside where they are not allowed to take charge and reign? God–would your plan be magnified and glorified tomorrow, that we might see Your face in the eyes of a small baby? Just as we prayed on the night of her birth–Glorificate.

Happy Due Date little one. We are so thankful to know you.

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One thought on “The Due Date

  1. Ana looks great to me. I pray the evaluations are good. Please call if you want to talk at all about how she is doing. You are amazing. and you are right, God is good.


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