Yet another day with little to no sign that labor is anywhere in my future. Sunday night I began noticing my braxton hicks contractions were getting stronger and closer together. Excited and hopeful, I made the mistake of believing it was indeed the night. Aaron and I went to the store and got snacks for the hospital and picked up some food for the house so that the brunt of shopping wouldn't be completely on Serenity. After an hour of consistent, lengthy, and strong contractions, I was beyond convinced. Obviously, since I am sitting here blogging, things died down after that and labor has yet to commit itself to me. Needless to say, Monday was a long and bleak day. Tuesday I had my midwife appointment. Three centimeters dilated, about 50% effaced. Apparently this means little with your second child-- I could be pregnant for two more weeks for all they know.
Pleeeeeaaaase! I beg God, my body, Gabriel, anyone who could possible do anything about it. Please! I just need some relief. Funny how I am begging for something that will cause me much more pain in hopes of relieving myself of my current pain. Honestly, as desperate as I am to be out of pain, I am pretty much to the point where I don't care if my back pain goes away right after birth or not. I am so anxious to meet Gabriel. Of course if the pain doesn't go away, I will be pretty disappointed and probably pretty upset, but my focus these days (although it is the pain that reminds me) is mostly on bringing my baby boy into this world. I am so excited to bring him into our family! I can't wait to see what he will look like, how he will smell, how different or alike he and Aiden will be, and how Aiden will respond to his baby brother. To see how we all learn and grow.
Discomfort is good in it's own way. It encourages us to move. It pushes us to desire change, no matter how frightening it may be at times. It challenges us to look forward with hope. It teaches us truth about God's grace we would otherwise fail to grasp. I do not appreciate discomfort itself, I do not look at it positively. In fact, I hate it. But I trust in the truth that good comes from it, and trust that God gives us the strength to deal, despite the whining and stomping of feet. God is a patient father. With his guidance I will learn to trust, and hopefully out grow my temper tantrums.