I was reading an article about Death Cab for Cutie where the lead singer was quoted saying, “Nobody ever makes a plan that they’re gonna go out and get hit by a car. A plan almost always has a happy ending. Essentially, every plan is a tiny prayer to Father Time.”
I love that. It’s one of those things I hear in my heart when I start to get worked up about things outside of my control – things not in The Plan. Because it’s true, a plan isn’t a plan so much as a hope and a prayer, an outline of the things I want and the way I want them to be. When I think of them that way, they’re far less anxious-making and far more full of hope. When we both sit down and acknowledge that I can do all the right things, but ultimately, whatever is going to happen is going to happen, then a plan is just that – my tiny prayer to Father Time.
Because you know I’ve already calculated all the dates. Got it all mapped out. I can tell you when my prenatal appointments would be, when the cerclage decision would be made, the weeks I’m most likely to end up at the very least on self-imposed modified bed rest. But now this feels much more for my information, for me to hope for. If it’s not this month, it will be another, and then I’ll have new dates. New tiny prayers.
Oh, but the induction date? 38 weeks exactly? April 3rd. Sometimes it seems like the world is full of signs.