Have you ever made a recipe, gone to take it out after the suggested duration, and realized it just wasn’t ready yet? Or maybe you were given a range such as, “bake for 25-35 minutes, or until golden” etc.? Well that’s because even a science like baking isn’t always exact.
You may have figured out that Friday’s labor inducing eggplant parmesan didn’t exactly do what I intended. (Even after eating it for three days straight…OY.) Although we expected our bun to be all set today, it seems she may need just a little more time. Turns out, not all ovens are created equally. (You were right, Jorge!)
I admit, I was feeling very disappointed when I went to my appointment this morning and learned not much was progressing. That’s SO Jenn is all about quick and easy recipes that don’t require much effort, so at first this news totally cramped my style.
Even last night I started to become frustrated. I drowned my sorrows in hot, salty McDonald’s fries, alternating with straight-from-the-tub spoonfuls of cool, sweet dark chocolate frozen yogurt. It was nonfat for irony. There were MnMs too. And whipped cream. All eaten in bed with Hubby and some junky TV. I try not to medicate myself with food, but sometimes, the heart wants what it wants.
This morning, however, I decided to lift my spirits in a healthier way, with some doctor-approved Zumba. She said at this point, I no longer had restrictions, and since taking up smoking didn’t seem like the wisest decision, I opted for a feel-good workout instead. I secretly wondered if my water would break during the class and imagined someone slipping on it during one of the routines. I only found that slightly funny. Okay, really, really, really funny. Can you imagine? ‘Clean up in studio 8!’ Ha! I’m going to be such a compassionate mother.
Anyway, let me tell you, it was all I needed and more. Getting my adrenaline pumping and feeling those endorphins sent my spirits soaring, while the praise and admiration from the room full of ladies gave me that virtual hug I needed. Plus, we had a good laugh when the instructor blasted ‘Push It’ for us to dance to in honor of my baby.
You know what else? Having energy for an entire intense hour and the ability to do squats, on my tippy toes, for full minute intervals with this watermelon of a stomach, did wonders for my self-esteem. Not to be all ‘I am woman hear me roar,’ but it totally gave me faith that my body will work with me, not against me, when the big day comes. Realizing that at exactly nine months pregnant, I could still move in the same way, well almost the same way, I did before gave me reassurance it will get me through this upcoming task with flying colors.
And then I got to thinking. Is it really so bad to milk this ‘I’m making a person’ thing for a few more days? Getting smiles from strangers asking when I’m due, and wishing me good luck…Receiving texts, calls and messages from loved ones who are eagerly awaiting the exciting news, reminding me how much support is in my life…Soaking up the last ounces I have when this baby is all to myself…
I mean, maybe she just wants a bit more one-on-one time with her mommy before entering the world. Shouldn’t I feel good that I’ve created such a safe, warm environment for her that she feels like hanging out just a little while longer? (Or should I worry that she’s already a diva, waiting to make her grand entrance? Let’s go with the first one…)
So even though my A-type personality keeps me overly organized, I realize none of the big things in my life have ever gone as planned (hello, do we remember my engagement story?), but they’ve always turned out better than I expected. I suppose even before my daughter’s arrival, she’s teaching me a lesson in patience and proving what so many have been telling me: As a parent, I will rarely be truly ‘in control’ again.
I’m learning that no matter how spotless my house is, how many loads of laundry have been done, or how many stock piles of groceries and rolls of paper towels we’ve loaded up on as if we’ll never go out again (I keep saying we’re prepared for both a baby and the zombie apocalypse), it’s not really about my schedule right now. I’m proud my sweet princess already knows what she wants and goes for it. More power to her!
While the day is young and it’s a girl’s perogative to change her mind, I know it’s totally worth the wait if she cooks a bit longer. After all, there’s nothing quite like sitting down to a leisurely meal, enjoying a slow roasted piece of meat, fresh bread that takes hours to rise, or a fine aged cheese.
If all of those things get better with time, I can only imagine how incredible this little girl will be. So I’ll reset the timer and wait for her to be done to perfection. After all, when she’s ready, I get to be her mommy forever.
Want to know more about Baby Arata? Check out Bun in the Oven, It’s A…Gender Reveal Party!, My Bun in the Oven Baby Shower & How to Throw A Gender Reveal Party *As Seen on CT Style News 8*
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