According to my tracking, I am at 37 weeks today! (I count from Wednesdays, the day of the week my last period started and also the day of the week that Miguel and I made sweet sweet love by candlelight Miguel’s sperm and my egg got put together as I lay sobbing with my feet in the stirrups and Miguel was blissfully at work miles away. My doctor’s office seems to be counting from Fridays, which is the day of the week my due date falls on. But whatever, a couple days doesn’t really make a difference in the big scheme of things and my way, I get to read the weekly entry in Your Pregnancy Week by Week sooner…although at this point in the book they are really sharing what I like to call “shit you should have thought about a while ago” and I’m not getting that much out of it.)
I am starting to experience some mild panic about what is yet to come. The whole labor and delivery…what will it be like? Will it be fast or slow? Will it be excruciatingly painful or just mildly uncomfortable? Will I have to have a c-section? How bad am I going to feel after? If it’s bad, how am I supposed to care for a wee baby?
And speaking of that wee baby; um holy crap, they are going to send him home with us after a mere 48 or 72 hours and expect us to take care of him. I haven’t even changed a diaper in over 10 years, let alone been solely responsible for a fragile little life. Miguel has even less experience with wee babies. If you can get him to hold one, it’s usually for about 2.2 seconds before passing the baby along. (It’s not that he hates babies, he’s just afraid of the real little ones, he’s fine with the sturdier, more interactive 4 months+ versions.) What if he cries all the time? What if we can’t get breastfeeding going? What if I break him?
I know I’m not any different from most other 1st time parents, and that I’ve read as much as I can and I’m as prepared as I can be, and that when he gets here, we’ll just have to jump in and figure it out and it will all be okay. But I have such a low tolerance for ambiguity. I want to know NOW how it is all going to shake out. The not knowing is killing me.
In that way, I definitely want to “get this over with,” so I can have the worst of my fears confirmed or relieved. And also to get to all the good stuff: seeing who he looks like, holding and cuddling him in my arms, seeing Miguel learn and grow with him, sharing him with our families, teaching him about the world around him as he learns to walk and talk, etc.
In other ways, it gets on my nerves when people say to me “I bet you can’t wait to get this over with,” or “I’m sure you’re so ready to be done,” because that implies that this pregnancy is a misery, a hardship, and a burden. I can’t believe the number of strangers at stores and in the office hallways who have expressed “sympathy” for my plight (in the clumsy form of something along the lines of “sucks to be you to be this pregnant in the summer”). And yes, I know I’ve complained a fair bit about some of the side effects, but that’s just what I do, I bitch for effect, to entertain, because I’ve got a negative personality, whatever. Really, deep down, I’m still so amazed that wee baby has grown from a tiny cluster of cells to a fully formed person. Inside my body. I’m so blessed and lucky that I was able to experience this, especially when I read back to the beginning of this blog when I wasn’t sure we’d ever get here. I love every ripple, kick and scritch, even the ones that kinda hurt. I’m going to miss that when this is over and want to savor it while I can.