The Waiting Game

I was never good at this game. Never. I always got impatient. When I was little, I could never play hide and seek without cheating, because I hated keeping my head down for a specific period of time. It always seemed like the seconds were SO freakin' long when I wasn't allowed to look. Same thing with reading a book. A always marvels that I can read the same book 3 and 4 times (some of them even more) and get something new out of it every time. It's because I get so anxious when I'm reading that I skip over entire words and sentences in my race to the finish. The next couple of times through, when I already know the final outcome, I can go a bit slower and pick up more of the details.

I'm having the same problem with the end of this pregnancy. I don't want to rush our Bailey. I want her to be inside for as long as she needs to be in order to come out a healthy little girl ready to breathe on her own. I don't want to rush my body either. I would love to go into spontaneous labor and give my body the time it needs to bring Bailey into the world.

But DAMN IT. I'm so anxious. I am ready. Kelly is too, but she's more patient than I am. She's much more stoic and less emotional. And to be honest, she's not carrying around 7 pounds (or more) of baby. I just keep thinking - 6 weeks at the absolute most. I can do this...

I think.