So the baby ticker tells me that we will be meeting our sweet babe in something like 4 weeks. As always, that is a bit amazing to me. Physically, ugh, being not pregnant sounds very appealing. It's been a good pregnancy; no bed rest early on, no significant pain until pretty late in the pregnancy this time, pretty good energy (thank you Hemaplex!). The fall a few weeks back is when my hips and pubic symphysis pretty much decided to throw in the towel, but I made it a lot farther than last time. And for that I am exceedingly grateful. So, knowing that the birth of our baby will bring these physical discomforts to a close is encouraging. However...
One would think that after so many deliveries labor would hold no fear. I KNOW that my body can birth babies. I've had no significant problems. And I know that the only way through it is, well... through it. But I haven't been quite able to get my head in the right place. I have been spending a lot of time in prayer, but I just don't have peace yet. The thought of labor still makes me want to cry. Or throw up. As I think back over my last few pregnancies I know that this is standard drama for me as I near the end. I know that some measure of peace will come and that I will be okay. But now, tonight, the valley is dark.
Last night I dreamed that it was time to push. That is the moment I hate the most. I have never experienced the relief that I have heard others talk about when they "finally get to do something." I HAVE been doing something. I've been getting on the other side of every contraction leading to this moment, and now I am lost. It is too overwhelming, too primal, too...much. So that was my dream. That is was time to push, I awoke to that sensation. Scared.
I prayed until I fell back asleep. Because I know HE is there. He is with me, it is His strength that will take me across the valley when I come to the end of my own. I don't feel it now, but I know it. And I know I will feel it when I need it. And from the knowing will come the peace.