Good Things Come To Those Who Wait

Waiting is a curious thing. It is both active and passive. You wait and you are still. You wait and you are constantly looking for a way out of the waiting, only to be brought humbly back to the beginning, which is also the middle, which is never the end of the waiting. You wait and you lose track of time. You wait and time is all you can focus on. And then, without warning, the wait is over. You're still not entirely sure you can trust it, or believe it, but you have finally been released from the wait. You can open your eyes again. You can recover your breath.

This is how it was for J. Maybe it was because E came two days before his due date that she expected this second baby to make an early appearance. Maybe it was because she was fixated on having a baby before (or on) Halloween so she could plan costume parties and bat-themed birthdays. Maybe it was because 9 months is a really long time and she was done, just plain done, and ready for this baby to come. But he didn't. Not by Halloween, not even by Remembrance Day. He made her wait. He played knock-knock ginger (or ding-dong ditch if you're living in the states) a couple of times and when he did both the Js jumped. They even called the grandparents to watch E one night and drove all the way to the hospital only to return to the waiting game at home. J tried everything that was suggested to make that baby come. She drank castor oil and took blue cohosh. She ate spicy thai food and climbed Bear Hill. She was this close to giving in and being induced when she finally went into labour at midnight on the Sunday of her 42nd week of pregnancy.

Yes folks, for those of you who are counting, that's a full two weeks overdue.
They made it to the hospital in time and Milo Alexander came into the world an hour later. He was long and lean and lovely, but he didn't have the lungs to give a healthy cry so they bundled him and brought him to the NICU where he stayed a full five days. So it was that the waiting continued for the Js, and for E, and for everyone around them who had all but held their breath in anticipation of meeting the littlest Rioux.

E plays with the Smilodon toy that M got him as welcome gift.

J stayed in the hospital and time passed in surreal slow-motion. She made the walk from her room to the nursery every two hours, day and night, to nurse. J and E stayed at home and tried to pass the time between worrying and wondering when their family would reunite.



Waiting has a way of fooling you into thinking you know what you are waiting for.

Hello, little man. Welcome to the zoo.