The waiting starts.

As soon as you fall pregnant, you know that there's a time limit on it. One day, before you see this same month again next year, you will hold another child in your arms. And it's inevitable to always be looking ahead.

Sometimes I wish for the impossible- that there is nobody else in the world who is pregnant at the same time as me.

Sure, there's heaps of comfort in grieving together at the loss of your pre-baby body and all the ailments that come with a body used to working for one start to work for two that we can all share, but there's several frustrations about it for me.

Firstly, the company gained in this life-bearing process also means that the comparisons can begin "Oh, you're so small in comparison to..." (insert name here of someone who's baby is gestationally 3 months older than yours- or worse, someone who is due after you), or even "Sarah's baby was 3 kgs at birth, and yours was 4. It must be because of all those hot chips you ate in the early months" (That one can be attributed to my gorgeous mother, who forgets that she already made this same comment last week.) 

 

Of the frustrations of sharing a pregnancy with close friends, here is the hardest part for me. And a warning to readers- this is a string of highly selfish thoughts I'm about to unleash for you, but which at the moment, I seem unable to control.

Several of my close friends have been blessed by God and given children around the same time as me. But with a distinct difference- the three of us have now travelled through 2 pregnancies together, and with each time, I'm the last one still waiting.

Hayley gave birth to her beautiful second daughter, Zara, yesterday. And I am totally over the moon about this new life God has created. I'm happy for the birth and it brings me heaps of joy to hear about it and I'm sincerely delighted for my gorgeous friend, who has gone through her painful 40 week waiting period herself. Unfortunately, my excitement is also intertwined with a niggling thought "I'm still 10 weeks away."

These 10 weeks weren't that long until yesterday. I could have been pregnant for another 20 weeks and have been happy enough to do it. Now they seem like an eternity away.

What's weird about this is that I love being pregnant. I haven't had severe back pain like my friend, Hayley. I'm still coping well in this pregnancy, even with the 3 weeks of over 33 degree days out here and still carrying small, which helps me lug myself up our stairs at home to the 43 degree rooms upstairs. This new little life isn't ready to be born yet. I'm not yet organised anyway, and still this niggling in my brain has started.

My second friend, Sarah, is due in another 5 weeks for her daughter. Again, I'm sure the distance between March 9 and April 11 will be more than a little frustrating for me. When she was due for the first time with her boy, she was 4 months ahead, which was enough for me to settle down into a "my-baby-won't-survive-if-it's-born-now. It's-good-to-be-waiting." mentality. But only 5 weeks ahead is close enough to stay wishful for an early birth. Especially if this heat doesn't let up and even more pressing, if Avalon gets sick again and requires middle of the night stand up cuddles. I must say though that after having a 41 wk and 1 day pregnancy with Avalon, an early birth isn't really a forseeable probability.

The moral of the story is that I'm going to spend the next 10 weeks praying about being as content as possible. For contentment is of great gain! And even if in the next pregnancies ahead I draw the short straw and have to be the one to wait, hopefully the strength God gives me now will naturally flow over to them, too.