Waiting for the pain

It’s a strange thing, to be eager for pain.

To be waiting for it with anticipation, not dread. Maybe a little anxiety, but not fear. It will be welcome when it comes, because there is certainty that on the other side is something glorious. The joy and wonder that is longed for is only available after the pain, by experiencing the pain. When it subsides, it will be forgotten, and what will be remembered is only the journey, the process, the incredible and miraculous result.

Therefore, I will be thrilled when labor begins.

I’m sure it helps that I’m now several days past my due date. My patience is wearing thin and I know there’s nothing else I can do to feel more ready to welcome this baby into our lives.

The bags are packed. I’ve stocked the freezer with meals and baked goods. There’s a list of instructions for my parents, who are on call to watch our daughter when the time comes. Friends are praying and texting to check in, which at this point is still more reassuring than annoying. 

I was nearly a week overdue with our first, and I did not handle it well. I was irritated and maybe even a little angry. Each text questioning how I was feeling or requesting an update was another jab, another reminder that this was not going according to plan. After nine months of a beautiful and smooth pregnancy, I felt like my body was failing me at the worst possible moment.

It wasn’t, of course. Baby just needed a few extra days, I guess. But the stress and frustration during those days made the whole process more difficult.

I’m hoping to avoid that this time around. I’m sure it helps that I have a toddler to keep me busy and active – I haven’t even puffed or swelled up the way I did last time around.

I’m so ready and definitely a little impatient … but at the same time I am remaining calm. I wonder at every little twinge or pang, but I’m not making myself crazy – not yet anyway. My body has done this before, and I have complete faith that it can do it again.

I am so eager to hold this new life in my arms. I can’t wait to introduce my girls to each other. I’m so excited to see my husband become a father all over again.

And so, I await the pain. Whether they come at night or during the day, whether they begin gradually or catch me off guard, I will be ready. I will welcome the pain because I know it’s necessary, a vital and inescapable part of the process that brings new life.

Come on, baby. We’re all ready when you are.

Cheryl Hazelton

Cheryl Hazelton

I’m actually a Canadian, swept off my feet and across the border by my dashing husband, to the little house he built near Massena. We have a lively and joyful daughter, Cadence, who inherited at least a little of our stubbornness.
Cheryl Hazelton

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