Waiting for Lily

Why is waiting so hard?

There is a children’s book called “Ollie.” It goes “This is Ollie. Ollie is waiting. He won’t come out.” You see, Ollie is an egg and he won’t hatch and his family is waiting for him to come out.

It strikes me as a odd book to read to 21st century children who have never been on a farm, and certainly never waited in anticipation for an egg to hatch. But I think I finally understand it because we are waiting for Lily to come out.

Lily is due February 27th. But her mother is sure that she is going to come tonight.

She has been waiting for the last two weeks.

“I’m 3 centimeters dilated!” she called excitedly. “I’m sure I’m going to have this baby early.”

I am careful not to say what I am thinking. ‘I was 2 weeks and 2 days late with you’ I’m thinking. ‘That would put you around March 15th…’. I’m very careful not to say this out loud.

She was hoping to have the baby a week ago.

“I can’t lean over. I can’t pick up anything. I can’t make the bed.”

And she has two very needy little boys.

“Ryder wants to sleep on top of me. There is no top of me anymore. Max want me to sleep facing him. Ryder want’s me to sleep facing him. I can’t sleep on my back. I can’t sleep. Lily in in there doing somersaults.”

Up until today, her husband hoped that Lily would hold off. His busy time at work is in the middle of the month. He’s done with that.

Now, we’re all waiting.

Tracy will text her older brother if contractions come after nine at night. He’ll come and stay overnight with her two needy boys. If the contractions come after four in the morning, she’ll call my husband because he is up at that ungodly hour and He’ll head down.

During the day we’re the first layer response, because we live within 15 minutes. Her husband works an hour away. Her mother-in-law is down at the end of the cape.

We’re all waiting for the call.

Lily. Come out. Lily, we are all holding our breath.

My husband put off his visit to his mother. He didn’t want to be an hour away. I was hoping that my daughter wouldn’t go into labour until after my cape luncheon with high school friends.

Now, Lily won’t come. She won’t come out. She’s standing on her head. She rolling over and over in the womb. Her brothers poke at their mother’s stomach.

She won’t come out.

But soon. Then there’ll be a new normal. Max and Ryder, those needy boys, will have to share their mother with a nursing baby. Ryder will become the classic middle child. He’s the youngest now, and wants all the attention. At not quite 3, he is already becoming a brilliant comic and clown, always ready to say and do whatever outrageous thing that will make his audience laugh. I think everyone will be happier if that classic middle child gets to spend quality time with the grandparents.

Big brother Max is the serious rule-follower. We hope that he’ll channel his intensity into becoming his mother’s second set of hands.

We may have them for a bit and then we’ll be the ones losing sleep while the needy boys try to climb on top of us.

But for now we’re waiting and holding our breath.

And Lily? Lily is waiting. Lily won’t come out. But just like Ollie, Lily will finally come out and our wait will be over.