Expectations can be a tricky thing. They can either be met, or not. One of two ways. But is it as simple as that? You can have high expectations, you can have low expectations, you can even have no expectations (or is that even a thing). When your high expectations are met it can be a great feeling. You had high hopes for how something was going to go or turn out and it went exactly how you wanted and planned it.
Then there is when those high expectations are not met. Not only are you disappointed about the fact that what you wanted to happen did in fact not, but you have to deal with the degree to which they were not met. It could only be a little and you will get over it soon or it could be huge and may take a while. Low expectations are probably the better of the two to have. If your low expectations are met it is not that bad because you had already mentally prepared yourself for the worst. If your low expectations are not met then it means things went better than you thought and you leave being pretty happy about that. Now most likely every person that reads this has experienced all of what has been previously described, but just in case that rare individual who lives under a rock comes along, I thought I would just go ahead and describe it.
Like I said, everybody has expectations, at some point in their life. These are not always on the same things and I find it interesting to put a couple people’s expectations side by side. They may be going through the same events more or less, but they may have different expectations on different things. Let me provide a couple examples. I am currently in Texas for the birth of my beautiful niece. My expectations of going to see her and my stepsister in the hospital were the following: We would go to visit, we would swoon over baby Skyla. We would all take turns holding her while my step sister and her husband sat with smiles on their face telling us all about their magical experience as we laughed and looked as if we were straight out of a magazine or cheesy commercial for a hospital.
The reality of it was we went to the hospital and when we walked in my stepsister’s face looked as if she was traumatized (I would be too if I had just pushed a crying cantaloupe out of my pelvis a couple hours prior). My brother-in-law was holding her and she was as precious as ever. My stepsister did tell us of her experience but it was more along the lines of “no one told me that you projectile vomit during labor.” Not so magical. Then we left after the transferred rooms. There was no holding and it was very anticlimactic. It was safe to say that my expectations were not met. The following day we went to the hospital and that’s when I got to hold little Skyla Elizabeth. Let me tell you that all expectations of anything surrounding the birth flew out the window. The moment she was in my arms the world stopped and it was more than any expectation I could have ever conjured up on my own.
What you should get away from this is that it’s fine to have expectations but it is also fine when they aren’t met because sometimes things go exactly how they are meant to. Whether that’s a little on the disappointing side or the overwhelmingly fantastic side. If I would have held Skyla the first night, I wouldn’t have gotten to hold her for as long, it would have been dark and sterile feeling in the room and I would have been worried about how uncomfortable I know my step sister was. But as disappointed as I was not to hold her the first night, the second day was better. The sun was shining in the room, we were in a more comfortable patient room instead of the cold birthing room, and everyone was feeling much better and I was able to just be in the moment with just Skyla and me. So give yourself a break when your expectations aren’t meant, maybe you don’t always know what’s best.
