Waiting for my Life to Change

It’s rare to know an event is about to happen that will completely change your life. Even more rare: Knowing a life-changing event will happen any day… but yet not knowing which day.

A baby can safely arrive anywhere from 37 to 42-ish weeks into pregnancy (estimated due dates are 40 weeks). At 39 weeks, I’m feeling ready to go. The car seat is installed; the nursery is done; our hospital bag is packed. And—if you haven’t seen my belly—yeah, it looks ready to pop. Is it weird that I’m excited for labor to start? Well, I am.

Here are a few things I’ve learned while waiting for my world to change (I wish they were deep life lessons, but unfortunately I’m not great at waiting—see point #4—so these are mostly shallow):

1. Male strangers feel compelled to have a reaction to very pregnant women.

Some good, some bad.

For example, a few weeks ago as I was swimming, a military guy treading water for his workout joked that I needed to work on my abs (Ha. Ha. Ha.). But he went on to tell me how helpful his wife found swimming when she was pregnant, and he was all-around encouraging and happy for me.

Then last week while waiting for an oil change on base, a couple of Army officers—one with NINE children, the other with three—told me all about their experience as fathers. Very sweet.

On the other hand, as I paid the cashier, the manager (I assume) came out from his office and said, “Woah! You should be lying down at home!” And, this is something I’ve heard multiple times: “I am so glad I am not a woman!”

My typical response to this, more for my own benefit than theirs: “But you don’t get to feel a baby moving around in your belly, and that is the most amazing thing!”

I even had one Korean man in a base store look at my belly and shake in mock-fear. “Oh!!” he said. “Ohh! So painful!”

Thanks, dude.

My response, again, more for myself: “Actually, it’s going to be great! I’m practicing being very relaxed so it won’t be bad.”

2. Some Koreans don’t like or don’t understand American maternity clothes.

I get some funny looks when I’m out. I get some for just being foreign and blonde, I’m sure, but it seems the belly really attracts the eye. It took a visit to Joe’s grandma to understand why. I was wearing a coral sleeveless maternity shirt and a skirt. Oh, I have a picture:

Anyway, she asked Joe, “Don’t Americans have maternity clothes?”

She thought I should be wearing one of the big tent dresses Korean pregnant women often wear (if you even see Korean pregnant women out and about, which is kind of rare).

I tried to explain that there was plenty of extra material the way the shirt is designed, and that these kinds of maternity clothes look better on me than a tent-dress.

Well, the next time I saw her I wore the dress pictured at left, which hangs loose. But she asked the same question once again. Sigh. I can’t win.

3. Everyone has a theory for how to induce labor.

Walk up hills. Do lots of squats. Eat spicy food. Walk a lot. Bounce on an exercise ball. (And, of course, the PG-13 techniques I won’t detail here).

4. Patience is not my forte, particularly when it involves being alone.

I’m really excited to meet my son. Yes, I’m also ready for the feeling to return to my right hand’s fingers and for my feet and ankles to go back to their normal size, but I mostly just can’t believe a little person is going to make his entry into my world, someone who looks like me and like Joe. I can’t wait to see Joe as a dad. I’m thrilled to learn what it is to be a mom.

Plus, this first tour in State Department is my experiment in being a stay-at-home mom… but so far, I’ve been a stay-at-home person. If you know me, you will know that this is not particularly in keeping with my personality. My 11-week Korean language course gave me out-of-the-house purpose for a little while, but mostly I’ve been taking care of the homestead.

Some days I’m great at waiting: I swim and read and do laundry and make creative popsicles and go for walks and (sometimes) visit neighbors. It’s great! Other days, I do the same exact things… but the day ends and I’m drained.

A couple months ago, I scored a part-time freelance editing gig for a Korean tourism website… that is, until I learned that U.S. diplomatic spouses aren’t allowed to freelance on the Korean economy (anyone know of freelance editing jobs at U.S. companies??), so I had to turn it down.

I realize that hiccup is probably a gift—a chance to really give stay-at-home-mothering a chance like I planned. And I know I will be extremely busy once the baby is born… but, well, I am not very good at the long view when I’m at home so often and when it seems like my son will never arrive. I know that’s silly, but it’s true!

So, come on, little son! I'm so ready to meet you!