Waiting.. And More Waiting.. Part 1

He is almost one right?!?

I have lost track of how many times I have been asked that question over the past several weeks. People look at the calendar or see me and little H and all of a sudden, it hits them, it’s almost August. Isn’t his birthday in August?

Yes. His birthday is in August. And yes he is almost one. But the more I get asked about it, the more sentimental I become which is odd because I am not a sentimental person. I have actually been excited each time he has grown into a new size of clothing. I have loved seeing him grow and tried to not be sad about the passing days and the moments when I no longer see a tiny baby in front of me. However, to truly celebrate one year of his life, allow me a moment to reflect.

H was supposed to come the middle of August. We live in Southern Indiana and August is HOT. I also had a lovely OB jump the gun and inform me about 5 weeks before he actually came that I should go home and pack my bags right NOW. (this was not my regular OB..)  I did just what he said because what did I know. The Dr. said he could come ANY day and at that point the farthest I had gotten in packing was making a list of what I wanted to pack. This was at about 37.5 weeks. At 41.5 weeks, I was cursing my packed bags. See, they sat in front of our door, packed, for FIVE weeks.

While pregnancy is not short, any amount of time over 40 weeks is SO. MUCH. LONGER.  It’s like the clock decides to stand still. I was ready to meet our little guy, but I was stubborn and determined to let him come on his timing so I waited. And waited. And at 41 weeks and 6 days, after walking 10 miles between two days, I was done. I called my OB almost in tears and said I couldn’t be pregnant any longer. Remember, it was August. And it was hot. and I was now approaching 42 weeks pregnant.

My husband and I went out to eat that night and enjoyed the last night as a family of 2. Tomorrow, H would be here. Needless to say, I did not sleep much that night. Mostly I kept hoping maybe I would have a contraction. But nope. Nothing. I got up and ate breakfast (shh.. don’t tell anyone) and headed off to the hospital.

I will tell you a little more about his birth day later. But I was looking back through old blog posts and came across this post I wrote in January of last year- The Year of Patience.  Apparently, H knew about my word of the year and decided his arrival would be a great time for me to work on my patience. I am confident he came at the exact right time and I learned a lot about patience in the process. He is my August baby which is what I always wanted. His birthday will be a celebration of the grandest sorts because after almost 30 years of a December birthday, I can now live vicariously through my precious baby boy, throwing parties without the fear of snow or the conflict of Christmas parties or the stress of final exams.