The Pain + Joy of Waiting for the Unknown

Today is our due date, which means we have officially waited 280 days — the better part of a year — for the birth of our son. And this joyful, expectant waiting was preceded by even more waiting —  waiting for test results on a portal, waiting for a procedure, waiting for symptoms to appear, waiting for a positive pregnancy test.

What I’ve learned through almost four years of these different forms of waiting is that they produce such different emotions and overall experiences. Waiting to become pregnant, for example, was torture. We didn’t know when the end would come — IF the end would come. The thought of abandoning the entire pursuit was always looming in the corner of my mind, like a bat in a cave. There was no promised resolution, or a “prize” at the end of some predetermined amount of time.

In contrast, waiting for the birth of our son has been the most joy-filled, positive experience, filled with contentment, patience, and gratitude. I often hear how torturous these 9 months are, as you desperately want to meet your baby and escape the discomfort. This absolutely makes sense for those who undergo a complicated, uncomfortable and painful pregnancy, but I have had an abnormally positive pregnancy experience (which is something I don’t take for granted whatsoever). As a result, I haven’t wished away this time period as much as I anticipated I would. Instead, it has been an extended Christmas Eve feeling every single day, especially towards the end as we got closer and closer to June 13.

And yet, there is still a trusting in this positive form of waiting, as we don’t technically know the end date. It’s like knowing Christmas is coming but not knowing whether or not it will fall on the 25th of December. Will it sneak up on us on December 12th? Or perhaps we’ll go well into January? Should we wrap presents now? Or just distract ourselves with other things so we aren’t just sitting around the entire month of December in anxious anticipation?

There are so many things you can prepare for when it comes to the birth of a baby — the nursery, the feeding plan, the car seat and stroller, the birth class…the list is endless (and keeps growing with each generation, it seems). But there is one thing you cannot really plan for, and that’s the timing and details of the birth. Sure, you can schedule an induction or C-Section, but even then, you cannot fully control how that goes down. The process of getting pregnant, being pregnant, and now anticipating the birth in the next few days — it has helped me realize how little I can actually control. It reminds me that I am vulnerable, finite, and have to fully rest in the hands of a loving, faithful God who already knows the exact outcome of all this waiting. That I don’t need to know the details, and in fact, if I did, I might live in anxiety or fear in the days leading up to the event. But there’s something comforting and freeing in releasing control and not having to know all the details.

I have many friends still in that uneasy, grueling, frustrating form of waiting I know all too well — perhaps waiting for a spouse, a new job, a medical miracle, a positive pregnancy test — the list goes on. And there is no Bible verse or encouraging word I can wrap up with that makes that waiting any easier, so I won’t even try. It just sucks. And it’s not until there is a resolution (if there is) that you might begin to see that period of your life in any type of positive light.

But I will say this: I’m glad we waited. I’m glad we trusted. I’m glad we didn’t know the outcome. Because the waiting during our period of infertility made the waiting for our baby that much sweeter. Both Brandon and I grew in our faith in ways I never could have anticipated. There was a noticeable increase in contentment, humility, perseverance and trust — although we are continuously failing and growing in those areas.

As a result, I have been grateful for and excited about the few “inconveniences” of pregnancy I’ve had — the sleepless nights, the heartburn, the fatigue. I have actually been grieving the end of this pregnancy in a strange way — maybe because we waited so long for that positive test and had our eyes so set on the idea of “pregnancy,” that the actual “baby” part is secondary and unknown. But I know it’s time to close this chapter and exit the holding period, so we can begin to reap what was sown. And for that, we are so, so thankful.

What are you waiting for?

Whatever it is, it’s worth the wait.