With the hassle of adoption paperwork, home studies, and interviews behind us, we've almost nothing to do but wait for the little squirt to arrive before the court date to finalize his adoption is set. And waiting for him we are...
We (Sara) are presently at forty weeks pregnant. Forty weeks and stalled. You see, the last three visits to the doctor produced nothing. Not a dilation. Not an effacement. Not a decent of little, fetal head into the birth canal. Nothing. Of course, he's not going to stay in there forever. Come hell or high water, he'll come out, and I'm learning valuable lessons while I wait. Let me share them with you.
1. DON'T joke that nothing is happening as you enter the exam room. The luster of this joke will be lost in the fact that your wife is still not effaced or dilated. She will be angry at everyone, but mostly you.
2. DON'T tell your wife that this little delay of game is okay because it will give her time to focus on the end of school. She's sick of school and she's sick of being pregnant. And, at this point, she might be sick of you too.
3. DON'T remind her that she requested this baby to remain in womb as long as possible, you know, for convenience sake. She will not care to recall this statement nor will she appreciate the reminder. Trust me.
4. DON'T tell her you understand. If I were a man, I would be in worse shape than I am. Thank God I'm not. It's bad enough I had our daughter three weeks early. Clearly I don't understand.
5. DON'T offer comfort in suggesting that the cervix can thin at any time or that dilation can occur once labor starts. At this point, you've aggravated her so much, this is beyond the realm of comprehension.
6. DON'T tell her she's overreacting. Just don't, okay.
7. DON'T sit awkwardly in bed next to her because you're afraid to open your mouth or stay or leave or blink or leave the bedroom light on or turn it off or anything. She will think that something's wrong with you or, worse, that you think something's wrong with her even though it's neither. You're just scared shitless. Say something. Then pray.
I've been praying a lot. Talking, a minor wincing in anticipation of verbal backlash, a quick prayer session, and a sturdy brace for response. I've got the methodology down pat, and I can see the end is almost near. So can she. We're both excited and anxious and glad and nervous and all those jittery feelings you feel right before you have a baby. We're both a bit on edge waiting. All three of us are and Graisyn maybe more than the two of us. In fact, I'm quite surprised that she hasn't managed to pull him out by his ears. Ahh, yes. There's always tomorrow for that.