Sometimes, I think the universe (or God, if you prefer) looks at our plans and just laughs. They see our biggest fears and think "yeah, that looks like fun. Let's go!"
1 year ago today, I was sitting at an in-service training, having Braxton Hicks contractions (and freaking out my guy team members), thinking "one more day, and I'll have my son!" I have no idea what the training about. I didn't care, I wasn't paying attention.
I was terrified of giving birth. My biggest fear was that something would go wrong and I'd have to have an emergency c-section or risk the baby. I had a panic attack the night before we went to the hospital, and that was a big chunk of the reason.
Can you guess what happened 6 hours into my labor? Yep! Doc says the baby is in distress, his heart rate drops with every contraction, we need to do a c-section. Fml. Ok! Let's do this shit!!
Turns out the scariest thing was absolutely terrifying, but 100% worth it. Connor was born healthy and perfect. I have a nifty scar on my lower belly, and a fancy story to go along with it.
I have mostly stopped trying to make hard plans for the future. Now, I still make general, long term plans, but they're more like goals than actual plans. The universe has its own plans and it couldn't care less about mine.
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