11.18.08

I've been torn as to what we should do for Thanksgiving this year. My family goes to the Outer Banks for Thanksgiving most years, but since getting married (almost 4.5 years ago, wow!) Matt and I alternate holidays, so we go to the beach every other year. I was thrilled when I found out we were pregnant the first time and would have a little one to take with us this year, and obviously heartbroken when that excitement ended. When I found out we were pregnant again and due in January, I thanked God for providing for us and making the holidays a little easier, knowing that we had another little blessing on the way.

My motto this pregnancy has been "Make no plans" because I'm not in charge and any plans I make could easily be setting me up for disappointment. My only plan was to work up until the big day, and obviously that may not happen! I have no birth plan like many women, I have a desire to breastfeed, but I will not hold myself to it if it does not seem to be working after calling in all the right reinforcements, I have no plans at all, really. I don't want to be stressed out or disappointed.

But I really wanted to go to the Outer Banks this year. It's part of the reason I've held off on bedrest, it's part of the reason I haven't ordered my secret santa gift for the family gift exchange (I didn't know where to have it sent-- to me or to someone who is definitely going?) and it's part of the reason I haven't been able to just let it go.

But two things happened yesterday that have made me feel OK about not going, if my doctor puts the kabutz on it this morning. First, my wonderful friend, Lisa (and her hot hubby, although he probably doesn't know he offerred himself up) offerred to get together on Thanksgiving so we wouldn't be alone (and in turn, they won't be alone either, which makes me want to cry).

Second, I talked to my mom last night and learned that some of my family members are acting ridiculous and are on the verge of spoiling a happy family time that we only get once (sometimes not even) a year. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's immaturity among adults, especially family members--sisters-- who are blessed to have each other in the first place, but are too focused on their own shortcomings that they can't see past the hurt. I know this is common in a lot of families, and women are emotional beings-- I see it in Matt's aunts too (and there are 4 of them, whoo!), but it's hard to sit back and watch everyone else's holiday be tarnished over whininess. And it's hard to not butt in and give 'em all a good wake up call on how great they have it.

The point of my ramblings is that, once again, God has provided. I feel perfectly fine with whatever decision my doctor makes for me. If I can't go, then there's darn good reason-- my baby is #1, not some 11 hour drive through the mountains and rural North Carolina only to sit through tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. We have friends here who are like family and if anything should happen and we need to get to the hospital, we're here. And God has given me a perfect peace about it. I've started to pray about this several times, but have cut myself off each time because I've felt like it's ridiculous to pray for God's will being made clear over something as silly as a vacation. But I should've trusted my heart because it's perfectly clear to me now that nothing is too trivial for prayer.