Today is the last day of our family of two. This weekend, my daughter will be born.
My wife is 39 weeks pregnant today. We’ve been busily preparing our home for the arrival of our daughter, who happens to be the first girl born in either family since Lindsey. We’ve been blessed with support from our families and we wouldn’t have been able to do nearly as much as we have in the time we were given.
How do I know my daughter will be born today? Because if Lindsey doesn’t go into labor by tonight, we will go to the hospital and be induced.
I’m in a weird place right now. This was not the plan. Everything has gone so well over the last 39 weeks, it feels almost like we’re dropping the ball at the goal line.
There are mental positives and negatives to this whole arrangement. Pro: I don’t have to anticipate waking up in the middle of the night to my wife’s contractions. Con: I have to think about the induction and possible cascading effects all day. It’s hard not to think about the negative impacts of medically inducing labor when you’re staring it in the face.
I trust our doctor. I trust his judgement and wisdom. I trust his staff, who alerted us to the fact that Lindsey’s amniotic fluid is lower than it should be. But I also trust that God has arranged all of our meetings, relationships, and circumstances with our best interests in mind. While this isn’t the path we were hoping to take, it doesn’t matter what we had in mind. All that matters is the fact that Lindsey delivers the baby safely, and that we can all come home together.
We’ve been prepared and we’ll continue to be equipped. We’re ready for two to become three.