At 38 weeks and 5 days pregnant, I know this mutant being inside my stretch-marked balloon of a belly could make its way through its escape hatch any day now. I’ve been describing the feeling, at least emotionally, much like being on a roller coaster with a very long and steep incline, slowly click, click, clicking up it, unable to see exactly where the peak is but knowing you’re getting there… soon… and knowing once you do, you won’t know what’s up or down for a while, and no matter what, even now, you can’t turn back.
I’ve been reading maybe too much about all the things that can go wrong during childbirth and also how much it’s going to hurt. I’m not anti-epidural, but I dislike the idea of anything touching my spine, and the side effects that epidurals can cause. I’ll probably get one anyway. I’m hoping for a fast and easy labor but I’m not expecting one. I’m just preparing myself emotionally for a 72 hours of horror and hopefully a healthy baby and reasonably fast recovery in order to move on, safely, to being a mom and such.
I’m scared. Terrified. And avoiding thinking too much about what can and will happen. I’m distracting myself in productive and unproductive ways. I’m bidding adieu to a carefree-ish extended adolescence and attempting to clean my house. I’m not sleeping enough and swinging between exhaustion and alertness. And I’m a hot mess. Examples:
- On Monday, someone parked too close to my car on the driver’s side, so I attempted to squeeze into my car via my driver’s side door, resulting in my facing the back of my car on my knees and not being able to move for a minute while in very hot car and having an anxiety attack. I managed to open the door a bit for air and turn around, but it was not easy.
- On Tuesday, I left work and lo-and-behold similar car situation. Someone parked way close to my car on the driver’s side. I decided to not try to get in through driver’s side this time and instead opened my passenger side door and managed to get over to my driver’s side facing forward. Score. But, I could not reach the passenger’s side door to close it. So, I backed out of my spot with the door wide open… and, of course, my colleagues acme out of the office and stared at me in my beautiful (freshly bird-shatted) car and after wondering WTF I was doing came over to help close the door for me.
- On Wednesday, right before a marketing team meeting where I was scheduled to briefly present, I slammed my right middle finger hard in a bathroom stall door, causing it to squirt blood everywhere. I spent a half hour in the meeting holding paper towels around it to stop the blood flow. After the meeting, I found a metal first aid kit hung on the wall in the kitchen. I secured antibiotic ointment and a bandaid — but then I tried to close it with my left hand, and my palm got caught in the metal closure which hurt like a mo fo. I wanted to cry or scream out in pain, but, you know, I had to laugh. Because only I can hurt myself on a first aid kit.
- Today… well, nothing bad has happened today yet amazingly enough. Perhaps at this point if I refrain to move from my bed I’ll have one day of not harming myself… but tomorrow’s another day.
Ah, life.
The good news is that for the next 72 hours if I go into labor, I will either be working from home or weekend-ing, so I won’t have to deal with the whole going into labor at work situation (which, given my luck, would involve my water breaking in a big gush at the most awkward and inopportune time — despite that being one of those things that “doesn’t happen”) but it’s me we’re talking about here…
I’m sad and excited all at the same time to be approaching the peak of this roller coaster. To be at the end of an era. I don’t know how much I’ll change as a mom. I feel like my brain is not designed to be a mom. I imagine my thoughts are not legally acceptable as a mother. But as long as psychics remain frauds I should be ok. Moms can be human too, right?
I’m not ready to have a baby but I’m not — not ready. It might as well happen. I’m going to figure it out as I go. I’m going to try to sleep enough so I can take care of my kid. I’m going to try my best and fail a lot and do my best to keep myself and kiddo alive. The rest, well, what will be will be. And I’m sure I’ll still be my crazy self, always teetering on the inappropriate in thought, verbiage and action, with one new definition added next to my name in the dictionary — mom.
life with interest 