Patience is not one of my strong suits. I’m fairly certain that you will never hear one of my friends say ‘You know! Danielle has so much patience.’ It’s just not going to happen.
Pregnancy is forty weeks which is roughly two hundred and eighty days. That is a lot when you think about it! This is my fourth pregnancy so maybe it’s age or wisdom, but I feel like I am finally figuring it out. Usually I am so ready and so anxious for the little baby to arrive. Ready to count the weeks on by, check everything off the list and be as prepared as I can as early as I can.
This time though? I’m realizing how safe he is inside right now.
Sure, things can happen and go wrong when he is utero, but it seems far less scary with him in there. I can feel his little kicks and jabs. I can feed him what I’m eating and don’t have to worry if he’s getting enough. I don’t have to worry about all.the.things that I stress about once the baby has arrived. I don’t have to worry about a trustworthy sitter or how he is dealing with this new life that he was thrust into.
He’s basically got it made in the shade in there. He’s safe inside. He has a perfect temperature hot tub, soothing and relaxing white noise, and unlimited room service. That sounds amazing! I don’t think I would ever want to leave either.
I guess just like with motherhood in general you just have to strike that balance.
And maybe this is more about living in the moment and appreciating where you are when you’re there. All I know is that I have a new appreciation for those forty weeks of pregnancy. Now would someone please remind me of this once I hit thirty six weeks? That would be perfect.
