March 18th. I know the day by heart because I’ve written it on a lot of forms since November. But, it was always just a hypothetical arrival date for this baby because we all knew she’d come a little early. Helen’s first one was 19 days early. So, surely, this one would be too.

Except she wasn’t.

It’s March 18th, and apparently she doesn’t know what that means because she was supposed to be out by now. And, everyday she hangs out in the cozy, little spot she’s got right now, we’ve got one day less to do all the preparations we have to do to get them home…which is sorta stressing us out right now.

We’ve received lots of suggestions including but not limited to long walks, a pedicure, squats and lunges, a car ride down a bumpy road, bowling, jumping on a trampoline, stair climbing, raspberry leaf tea, spicy food, a ride on a 4-wheeler, eggplant parmesan (seriously? don’t people know Chinese people don’t eat cheese???), nipple stimulation with or without a breast pump, and “the deed.” I will neither confirm nor deny which of those have been tried thus far.

This I will say—we’re praying hard. Please join us. Please pray that this baby comes out perfectly on time…and that that time would be very very soon…like in the next 24 hours.

image from Mae Handmade

18 hours ago, we were joking about the little leprechaun who’d be born today. The joking stopped when Jess the nurse sent us home at 3:am. Contractions were there but they just weren’t doing enough. At only 2 cm. dilated from 10:30-3:am with no change at all, the nurse smiled nicely and handed her clothes back to her, officially deflating all three of us thoroughly when she said, “I bet I’ll see you back in about 2 days.” 2 days? Really? 

patience. timing. trusting. waiting. 

Here we are.

Yesterday was hard.

Today is harder.

Helen’s discouraged. Frank’s unsure of himself. Mark’s anxious about the rush that will need to happen after this little person arrives to get them home safely. All 5 kids are playing as if it’s just any other day.

Me?

I’m writing again because it’s sort of what I do. And, praying. Castor oil hasn’t worked to bring this baby out to meet us. But, prayer can. We gotta pray this baby out.

I made plans in my head. When dinner was all cleaned up and the kids were settled, I was going to sit down to write. I had the words planned out in my head—words about the struggle with patience. timing. trusting. waiting. 

Today was hard. Our guests departure date is set for April 21st. There’s a whole lot that needs to happen for baby girl before they leave. The reality of that hit us today. She’s already later than we thought she’d be. What if we can’t get her paperwork finished in time? 

Then, after dinner, in between clearing plates and telling children how many Hershey kisses I’d let them have for dessert, she told me very peacefully that she was contracting in the same voice she’d use if she were telling me that she’d like me to get more flour for steamed buns at Wegmans tomorrow. She told me not to do anything yet but to keep going with my plans. Mark and I sat at the dining room table working on the mess of the rooming for Together Called while we watched Helen pacing the living room and taking deep breaths.

A couple hours later, here we are, sitting with Frank in a labor room while he giggles occasionally at Jimmy Fallon on the tv. Helen’s walking around the room trying to get things moving a little faster.

And, I’m writing.

patience. timing. trusting. waiting. 

It’s all still relevant. Very much real. Right in front of me. But, it all looks entirely different from the view before me right now.

There’s going to be a baby girl here soon.