30 weeks in, it’s occurred to me.
At the end of this I have to deliver a baby.
I have to deliver a baby.
I HAVE TO deliver a baby.
I have to DELIVER a baby
I have to deliver a BABY.
What in the actual fuck were we thinking?! Why did I just kind of brush off what may well be the single hardest part of this? Don’t get me wrong, I’ve done this twice, I know what’s involved…but damn. Tonight or tomorrow, my project is to start writing a birth plan. It will have to be a collaborative effort between Mom and I, with me focusing on my part and her focusing on the time immediately post-delivery when Squiggle and I become two separate people. The Bean’s was a very VERY long labour and a quick delivery in the hospital, the Duck was an insanely short labour and quick delivery at home. Who knows what this will bring! Hell, I may treat myself to some gas!
Mom and Dad feel more comfortable with a hospital birth, and I totally get that. I wish we had birth centers because it would have been the perfect compromise between a medical and home birth – I just want to be respected. With that in mind, I think my part of the plan will be focused more on the things I don’t want. I don’t want to be offered meds. I’ll ask if I want them. I don’t want to be told when to push. I will know or I will ask. Basically, I just don’t want to be micromanaged, I just want to have some semblance of control. Then we have to consider that while in labour, a woman is effectively at her most vulnerable, and having extra people in the room, critical though they may be, is terrifying to me. Mom and Dad are so unbelievably cool, insisting that if I need to do this privately, they’ll understand – but I can’t ask that of them. They need to be present for this moment, so I need to figure out my shit. I trust my body, my team, Mom and Dad, Schmoopy… but I don’t trust that the plan will be adhered to, simply based on my first experience. Not ONE piece of the plan was respected by anyone other than our midwives. The hospital team ignored every bit of it. Luckily, I have 3 people PLUS the midwives whom I will force to know exactly what is happening, and whom I will demand to advocate for us as I labour (and deliver a baby).
Other than the sudden terror that somehow she’s going to have to come out, things are continuing to be easy and wonderful. We’ve been spending a lot of time with Mom and Dad, and Mom even bought her first baby clothes last outing!! It seems to be sinking in for all of us that they’re really really going to be parents, and the sheer joy is a feeling that I will carry forever. I’ve been doing some shopping of my own and was beyond excited to score Mom something unbelievably special. I’ve always loved wearing my babies (and other people’s too!!), so I knew I wanted to something special that would let them experience the benefits of an ergonomic, comfy carrier. Something not too complicated, so buckles were a must. In the end, I scored a wrap conversion Tula at a Sunday stocking – they post them and the carriers sell out within seconds, so it can be tricky to achieve. Not only did we score, but the print has a family connection, that I think Mom and Dad legitimately loved. I wish Schmoop hadn’t found out that their resale value is over twice the (“exorbitant!!!”) price I’d paid – he insisted I could flip it and try to score another. Ummm no. Anyway, this beauty will not only help them to bond, but in the cheesiest way ever, it will be like a hug from me for both the wearer and wearee every time they use it. THAT is priceless.
The time is ticking, slowly, then quickly, then slowly again. We have 7 weeks to term and 12 weeks to 42 weeks, which is about as far as this will go without medical intervention — so really not that much time at all! Tick tock, little one. Tick tock. Your eviction day approaches and your parents can’t wait to meet you!