On a Tuesday Morning

You know what's really difficult?  Balance.

This baby is due in four weeks.  I have delivered three weeks early, eight days late, and everywhere in between.  Clearly, it is crunch time.

WAIT!  Crunch time?!  What on earth is that supposed to mean?

If there was ever a time to rest, isn't it now?  I'm eight months pregnant and it's July.  I should put my feet up, sip ice water, and finish knitting my current project, while patiently awaiting the arrival of our new blessing.

And yet, all I can think of is what I need to DO next.  Do, do, do, an impossible list of things to accomplish without enough hours in the day to do them, pregnant or not.

I tell myself to slow down, then my next thought is of all the things I have to get done in order to be able to slow down.

I've been feeling good, and this pregnancy has been uneventful.  I went yesterday for my 36 week check.  They do a "quick" ultrasound to make sure the baby's head is down.  I've never had a breech baby, so I wasn't worried.  Sure enough, head down.  Then the doctor started to check the fluid levels, and was very quiet for a few minutes.  He finally said that my fluid is low and that he was going to get a bigger ultrasound machine to get a better look.

Wait a second, this is not how my pregnancies work.  I don't have low fluid, or any other cause for concern.  I go in for my check, they say everything is fine, and I go on with my day.

He came back and scanned with the larger machine, searching out and measuring every little pocket of fluid he could find.  He was satisfied that we're at the low end of normal, and said we'll check again next week.  With a full ultrasound, looking at growth too.  I don't like having so many ultrasounds, it goes against my ideal of low intervention during pregnancy.

I don't like...
My ideal...
Go on with my day...

Really, is this what I sound like right now?  I have a healthy baby, kicking and growing, and the day that we meet him or her is ever closer.  I have lovely children who feel my tummy all day long, in hopes of getting kicked so they can squeal with joy.  I have a supportive husband, who can't wait for this baby, who loves us and takes care of us, while humoring my every whim.  I have competent doctors who are on top of everything, doing their best to ensure a safe and healthy entry to the world for our baby.

And I'm whining because something isn't going just as I planned.

You know what the doc told me to do when I left there yesterday?  Go home, drink lots of water, and rest on my left side whenever I can.  The nerve.  Hasn't he seen my to-do list?
What if the baby comes before I get it all done?!
What if?
Well, I suppose the baby will come, we'll swoon with joy and count our blessings.
Hmmm.

Today is a slow day.  I will rest.  Mr. Smith will be home tonight, and tomorrow for the holiday.  He will not let me do a thing, if I know him.  It is summertime.  We have a sprinkler and a swing set.  These days will pass quickly, whether I "allow" them to or not, and God's Will will be done.

I will remember my humble place as His servant, and put my own stubborn will aside.  I will pray for my baby.
And I will count my blessings.