The only thing an estimated due date is good at predicting is when a baby likely won’t be born. Only five percent of babies arrive on their due dates, which means it is usually safe to assume that your baby will be born around that date instead of directly on it.
But when a birth never happens, the due date holds much more power.
Saturday was my second baby’s due date. It was exactly a year and a half after Cameron’s due date. It was a day that will never mean anything – except for the place it holds in my heart.
It was a day that came and went without much fanfare. It was so completely unlike a birth day. No one was waiting and counting down to that day. No one was excited to meet a new little person who was ready to greet the world. I wasn’t feeling that eager anticipation for labour that third trimester heaviness and readiness brings.
When I think about my life right now, it is hard to imagine that if things hadn’t progressed the way they had, we would be bringing home a new little family member. It is hard to imagine our home and our life and our son opening up to accept a new person into the fold. It is hard to imagine that it has been nine months already.
So this weekend, I had a little, inward, private party. I celebrated. I mourned. I prayed for my baby and my family. I counted all the blessings that I have received in these past nine months.
And I took my son camping.
Because, it was just a day like any other. No different. Nothing special. An ordinary day.