Worth the wait

Anyone who knows me knows that patience is not one of my virtues. I'm sure even if you've followed a few of my posts, you could tell that as well. It's really easy to tell someone else to just be patient, but honestly...when it's something YOU want, it's a totally different ball game.

Why is the last bit of a long wait seem longer than the rest of any of the time that came before? We found out September 19th we were pregnant with this girl. And although there were spurts of time that felt like ages had passed, I can't believe we're almost to May. A friend of mine told me the day we found out we were pregnant, "You just wait girl, when you're holding that baby next year I'll say remember when you called me in September? And it will feel like time just flew by."

Time has not "flown" by any means, but I do know what she means. It's always such a nice feeling to look back and know that the wait is behind you.

There's only been one time in my life that I was really willing to wait for something...and that was giving birth to Sam. I knew that when he was born we would have only hours if not minutes, and that was not a countdown clock I was willing to start.

I was going to share a journal entry from this time last year, but for the first time in possibly my entire life, I've decided to keep it private. I had written down a short version of Sam's birth story one week after he was born, and rereading it actually took me right back. It's really weird knowing how open and how much I wanted to share everything about him for months after he was born. And now, I'm holding onto those moments, as if sharing them is the same as giving them away, never to be returned.

Rereading that entry, I brought myself back to that hospital bed. I was back in the room...Sam had just been born...and to me it was completely silent. Everyone says the room was really loud and so much was going on, but because I couldn't hear my baby the silence was deafening. I thought for sure he had already passed.

I had prayed so hard to God to let me hear my son cry even  just once. I don't really know why that was so important to me...validation that he had lived? I'm not sure. But that silence told me that my prayers had not been answered.

And then...I heard little kitten-like sounds coming from the other side of the room. I had had my eyes closed the second he was born (which really amplified my hearing I think), and I remember opening them when I heard those mewing sounds. I remember asking if that was him and several people telling me yes.

I have a video of Sam right after he was born, capturing his cries. I love it, but it might be hard to watch for some. I used to watch this every night after he was born, but I haven't watched it in months. I think for his birthday though, it's a good thing to hear my baby :)

I am so grateful for those cries. And the sixteen weeks of waiting after finding out he was so sick were more than worth it. I'd carry him for another sixteen weeks if it meant hearing him again.

I already KNOW that this girl is worth the wait. That I will one day look back on my impatience and think, "geez, it wasn't THAT long, what was wrong with me?" But for now I cross my eyes, stick out my tongue, and say, "Patience is hard for me, what do you expect?" ;-)