Two More Weeks

Two weeks from now, we're scheduled to have a new baby in our house. At least, that was the schedule we were on ten hours ago. Then we had an ultrasound. There was something semi-funky on it and another appointment was scheduled for today. We came in and the semi-funky thing was semi-nixed, only to be replaced by another semi-funky thing. While everything else seems to be working properly, our baby girl is small.

She has always been on the small side, but this time her size showed very little increase compared to three weeks ago. The doctor explained that something, and they don't know what, was causing her development and growth to slow. He told us that she would have a better chance if she were allowed to continue growing on the outside.

That statement activated the self-check function in my brain. On the outside . . . what exactly does that mean . . . outside? Outside? Outside! Was he really suggesting that our baby girl needed to be born now? My staggering attention was quickly directed back to his words, which confirmed what I thought I had heard. Our baby wasn't going to be born on her due date; she wasn't going to be born around Labor Day, as we had expected all along; she was going to be born now!

The word 'now' is actually a little strong for the situation. They have started the process of inducing Mollie, which they expect to take from 1-2 days. (Not to worry, that is not 1-2 days of labor. That time frame mostly consists of preparing her body for labor.) But 'now' does imply that the next time we go home, we will have reworked the sleeping arrangements so that none of our family members will have a bed inside another person!

So tonight, I sit here mostly in shock. I have been slow to warm to the idea that we are having a girl . . . I'm going to leave that as typed, but it is nowhere near accurate. More to the point, I am scared that I will not know how to raise a girl, how to protect a girl. With Andrew, I had some inkling of how a boy grows up, having experienced it myself. I understand that most of the dangers that face a boy are ultimately internal decisions. I can teach him about the choices he will face and then hope I have guided him well enough that he will avoid any major pitfalls. With a girl, though, I look to the future and see so many threats that neither she, nor I can control. It scares me. I can teach and teach and teach, but in the end, much of what she potentialy faces is mostly out of our control.

As I type, and then reread the last paragraph, I agree that it succinctly express what I feel, but at the same time, I realize that she and I (and Mollie and even Andrew) will be able to help, guide and protect her. Much of what I fear is actually dependent on her choices, though often times it is a choice of avoidance, rather than what I see as the boy's struggle, the choice of nonparticipation.

In the end, I know that I can only raise her the same way I hope to raise Andrew. I can teach her what is right, I can lead them her put their faith in God, and ultimately, I can step back and watch as she find their own way in the world.

For her, that that journey will begin earlier than we ever expected.