The Waiting Game

We spend a lot of time in life just waiting. My trip to Arizona alone has involved a lot of waiting. I waited in the terminal at the airport. I waited as my flight was delayed 30 minutes. Luckily, I had zero wait time for my friends to pick me up from the airport. Emily was there to wait with me for my luggage to come around on the carousel. 

In the last 3 days there have been numerous other times I've waited. Some simple, like at a red light or at Starbucks for my coffee. Today, has been the most eagerly anticipated wait. Bart, Emily, and I waited as the nurses poked and prodded to prep Emily for a c-section. Then we waited some more. And then a while longer. Finally, after a few hours of waiting they took Emily to the OR. I waited again with Bart until they came to take him back to Emily. That might have been the hardest wait. Waiting with Bart, an anxious, soon-to-be, first time father was humorous to say the least. He didn't know what to do with himself. I knew nothing I said or did would help, yet I still attempted, with mediocre success, to pass the time with funny stories to make him laugh. Finally, an eternity of 20 minutes passed and  the nurse came for Bart.

It was like 100 bottles of milk on the wall, but I was the last bottle and no one was coming to take me back. So back to waiting it was for me. Thankfully, I'm not an expectant father, so I had the sense well beforehand to ask Bart for the car keys. Google Maps had kindly informed me there was a Starbucks half a mile away from the hospital, so I used it to pass a whole 15 minutes of my time, but to get my much needed, first cup of coffee for the day. Then it was to the waiting room for me. In the waiting room it was just me, myself, and I, so I enjoyed some quiet, alone time.  It ended up being the shortest wait of the day. About 30 minutes in, Bart text me to say Ainsley Ida Shaw and mom were both doing great and I'd be able to come up shortly. The wait was finally over. 

 

With tears in my eyes as I type, I'm sitting in a room with a perfectly healthy, little baby girl. Her middle name, Ida, comes from Emily's great grandma. The grandma that brought Emily to church almost 25 years ago when we first met in the nursery. My heart is bursting with so much love I'm not quite sure how to contain it. Instead of figuring out how to contain my joy, I'm going to put my device away, quit waiting, and go be Aunt Caitlin to a beautiful Ainsley Ida Shaw.