I learned recently during an ill-advised Google search that when women say they’ve been in labor for 48 hours it doesn’t actually mean they’ve been red-faced, sweating, cursing their husbands, and in unbearable pain for a straight 48 hours. That’s what I always assumed and it sounded horrific. But those hours encompass all of it; from the first contractions at the house that you’re debating (are they/aren’t they), to the cardiovascular push at the end. 

Enjoying the first, waiting “patiently” for the second

Based on this new and enlightening information, if the baby comes in the next few days I’m going to claim that I’ve been in labor for a week. At least. Last Wednesday was the start of Baby Garbo’s false labor, and though it’s let up quite a bit since Saturday night it’s still wearing me down. I’m irritable, tired, and discouraged. Saturday night was the peak. My body deceived me to the point where we were timing contractions (there’s an app for that!) and were sure he/she would be in hand soon. The contractions were regular, five minutes apart, and lasted over a minute. Not overly painful, but painful enough. We put our plans in place for Ray, finished packing the hospital bag, and called the midwives for their opinion. But as soon as Ray went to sleep the regularity ended and I simply endured a night of sleep disrupting contractions that got us nowhere. Although I did milk a good back scratch out of the experience. 

Most couples start to get antsy a bit further along than we are, but we’re already there. I’m consumed with overanalyzing every sharp pain and extreme tightening. I wonder each day and pray each day that the baby will come and come fast. I long for us to turn on Upward Street on our way to the hospital rather than the doctor’s office for a normal check up. But nothing yet.

Since my thoughts of late have been so tunnel vision on the timing of this birth, I thought I’d explain the process of having a baby in Australia and (excuse?) why I’m so anxious. We arrived in Australia on January 1 with a three month long medical visa. Most people making this trip from PNG are able to have their baby and get the paperwork complete within those three months, but occasionally it doesn’t happen. In those cases the medical visas for each family member must be renewed at $250/member (they are free until you apply for an extension). Rarely, but sometimes, the Australian government will only renew the medical visa for the new baby and the mother. Dad and other children are sent packing. In that situation, Brian would head back to Madang with Ray while I stayed with new baby. Cheaper, but certainly not ideal.

So what goes into the paperwork? As soon as Baby Garbo appears, we’ll mail a request to the Queensland Registrar in Brisbane to get a copy of the baby’s birth certificate. Once we get the birth certificate in hand we’ll apply for his/her American passport. This requires a trip to either Sydney or Perth where the only US Consolates in Australia are located. They get eyes on the baby and approve him/her for a passport. They’ll mail the passport to us here in Cairns and we’ll turn around and mail it to the PNG Consolate located in Brisbane to apply for the baby’s PNG visa. As soon as the visa is approved and the passport is mailed back to us, we can go home. So it’s three major pieces, each relying on the last and touchy to time well. We’re as prepared as possible for this process, we just need the baby. Hence, the hope and extreme disappointment at each false alarm.

Aside from the stress of getting the paperwork started, I’m ready for it to be over. Give me the sleepless nights and harried days over bruised and squished organs any day. I want to meet this child and I want this child to finally become a holdable, kissable part of this family. I want to get back to our PNG home and start nesting. I want to stop feeling the way I feel mentally and physically. This baby dropped at least three weeks ago and measured “ready” two weeks ago. I know in my head that God is fully aware of my list of wants as well as all the circumstances that I can’t see. He has it all orchestrated perfectly already and no amount of anxiety on my part is worthwhile. I just haven’t embraced it in my heart. So I’ll be singing over and over again the song of Herbert the Snail from my childhood. I usually sang it when waiting for my sister to get ready for anything, but it’s simplicity just might help me get through the next hour, day, week of waiting for baby. Prayers appreciated!

Have patience, have patience

Don’t be in such a hurry

When you get impatient, you only start to worry

Remember, remember, that God is patient too

And think of all the times that others had to wait for you.