39 Weeks

Today I should be calling my mother, complaining that I'm not any more dilated than I was last week.

I should be gasping for air as my baby takes up the space my lungs used to inhabit. I should be in pain because this.baby.is.just.too.big.

I should be begging to go into labor, trying to stay indoors or hide out at the mall just to keep cool in this weather. I should be crying because even maternity clothes don't fit. I should be anxiously timing every.single.{false}.contraction.

I should be filling the internet with personal details about how I cannot urinate and what's happening with my cervix.

I should. I should. I should.

But I'm not.

If the NICU teaches anything, it teaches "I should" doesn't exist.

Instead, the wise NICU encourages me to let go. To let go of expectations. To allow time to be time and events to be events, without there being a clear relationship between the two. I've learned that there's so much more to learn.

I should be pregnant right now.

But there are women who should be mothers, and there are babies who should be alive and there are problems that should have plagued our NICU stay. "Should" doesn't mean much.

And if I am to accept our blessings, I have to accept our challenges. If I am to praise Charlotte's progress then I have to deal with her unexpected presence.

I cannot ask to be carried, and then complain about the route we've taken.

I shouldn't complain. But sometimes, I do.