About a month ago, I passed my Clinical Social Work exam. This was a huge thing for me. It means I can start my own practice if I want. It opens doors for me in terms of job prospects, it allows me to easily get reciprocity if we decide to move to another state. In short, it is a big deal and something I have been working towards for the last two and a half years (plus the two years before that in grad school).  Many months of studying, and 4 nail biting, blood shot eye inducing hours, later the screen cheerfully flashed “PASSED” and I felt like a giant rock had been lifted off my shoulders.

And then the red tape began. Hours of paperwork, days of running around trying to get this signature and that signature and proof of supervision completion, proof of my degree (again-as an aside, you would think the State could figure out how to have an electronic database where they could verify your degree instead of making you resubmit proof every time you apply for a different type of license). Three weeks later, I finally had all the necessary documents in order and I ran like the wind to the post office and mailed off my packet to our State Department of Professional Regulations via certified mail. By some miracle, it was received and signed for the next morning.

And then what happened, you ask? And then, I began to wait AGAIN. My check (yes, of course you have to pay for this) was cashed a couple of days later. And now, two weeks and counting and they still have not approved my new license. I am beginning to wonder what will come first-the end to my battle with the red tape and my new license, or the baby.

Anyone want to make wagers?

My Dear Baby Girl,

It seems that you are not quite done cooking in there, as I did not get my extra hoped for surprising news from the doctor today. That’s ok. Daddy and I can wait as long as we have to to meet you. But, if you’re so inclined, can you just come a little early baby girl? A week or two? This wait is driving us slowly insane. I mean, it’s been a long time that we’ve been waiting for you now. Really. I promise. And we are very excited to meet you. I promise I’ll give you all the chocolate you want once you’re on the outside too. Really, I will.

Love,

Your Very Impatient Mommy

When God gave out patience, I think he skipped me. I have never ever been good at waiting for things. Yes, I am capable of it, but it is HARD for me. Ask my poor husband, who often marvels at how persistent I am at getting the things I want. Yes, I’m serious. Although I understand the value of waiting for things, and the joy in accomplishing things after working hard for a long time, when it comes to the important things in my life, I am perhaps the most impatient person I know. Once I make a decision to do something, I want to do it. I don’t want to wait. I don’t want to mull over other options (usually I have already done that before I decide anything). I just want to DO. Needless to say, the last nine months have been L-O-N-G. When you’re pregnant, you can’t DO anything to speed up the process. You can’t decide everything will turn out well for you in the end. You just have to wait and see what life brings you. And now, that I am entering into my tenth month of pregnancy tomorrow (yes folks, for those of you not in the know, pregnancy is actually 40 weeks-read-TEN months, not nine), I am just tapped out of patience. I’ve waited, I’ve prayed, I’ve gotten up every morning and put one foot in front of the other hoping that today will bring another good day. This journey towards starting our family started two years ago for us and I am ready to finally meet our newest addition. The shower has been had, the room has been organized, the house is essentially clean, and I am R-E-A-D-Y to meet my baby girl. Couple that with the fact that I am crawling out of my skin with the nervous that something will happen to her before I can deliver her safely, and this does not spell one calm, cool, and collected pregnant woman. You see ladies, that’s the one thing that they don’t really tell you about pregnancy-the sometimes totally overwhelming anxiety that grips you. You see those happy go lucky ladies on those pregnancy books, but inside they are really spending 50% of their time praying that their baby will arrive safely and knowing that there is essentially not a darn thing they can do to ensure a positive outcome. At this point, I have been told by my doctors that if I went into labor tomorrow, they would let it proceed and so it’s just a waiting game for the next four or so weeks. We’ve made it this far, we’re so close to the finish line that I can see it, and I am downright freaked out that I won’t cross the line. That I’ll trip, stumble, miss the mark, make a mistake that will cost us our dream. This pregnancy, it’s like running a marathon in slow motion. No matter how much you want to push yourself just a little harder to cross the finish line, you can’t. You just have to wait.  Thankfully, I am not yet so insane as to begin looking up old wives tales and freaky natural labor induction methods, but the thought has certainly crossed my mind. I know she will come when she is ready. I just hope that she is ready sooner rather than later, lest her mother lose what little sanity she has left in the next 29 days. And the countdown continues…

I can almost taste it- Spring. It’s 60 degrees and sunny for the first time in months. My mind is wandering to the future, to life with our beautiful baby girl, to walks in the park, to picnics, bbq’s, and laughter. I love this time of year in Chicago . Even though I know today is just a tiny taste, and we might have more winter ahead of us, days like this are so hopeful. So filled with the promise of something better. It almost makes the grey and cold worthwhile-this feeling of exuberance when the seasons slowly but surely begin to change for the better. 31 days and counting. Today, with a great big grin on my face.