Ramblings of a Crazy Pregnant Woman

Thank you for all the lovely comments on my last post – my photographer rocks, doesn’t she? 

For the past few days I’ve felt really good.  My back pain has changed to a more manageable discomfort, my energy has increased, I’ve had to pee a million times more than I usually do, and I’ve felt more pressure and stretching in my va-jay-jay.  Chiquitito doesn't look like he dropped, but I’m not carrying quite as high as I was, so I think things are moving and preparing in there. 

For years I’ve looked at women in their ninth month of pregnancy and wondered what they were thinking and feeling as they approached delivery.  And now that I’m in my ninth month, I realize it’s not just one feeling or thought – it’s a huge jumble of anxiety, anticipation, and hope and fear.  The countdown in my mind is always tempered by the thought that he might be early, or he might be late.  And all the changes I’m feeling right now have really amplified that realization that I am not in control here.  I can’t set the date, I can’t arrange things to ensure that everyone I want to be there will be there, I can’t even control if I go into labor at home, like I want, or at work, which I really don’t want. 

Labor and delivery is such a mystery to me, even after seeing a lot of deliveries in my medical training, and then being present at my sister’s two deliveries.  I wonder if I’ll be one of those women who is able to allow my body to accept labor as it comes, and work the contractions to deliver my boy with strength and joy, or if I’ll be one of those who swears and cries and screams and begs for an epidural.   Oh, I really hope I’ll be the former, but I’m so afraid I’ll be the latter! 

I think I need to focus on each day, instead of what might come tomorrow, or I might not make it to May with my sanity intact! 

So today I’m going to be happy for another day of feeling good, and not going to worry that it means I’m about to go into labor, like one of my elderly patients suggested today.  I’m going to wear the same clothes over and over again, because I’m down to 2 pairs of pants, five shirts, one skirt and two dresses I can wear, and just be proud I’m still wearing heels every day.  I’m going to embrace the multiple visits to the bathroom, and try not to grumble too much at my doctor’s office on Friday when they hand me yet another cup to pee in.  (Though seriously, there has to be an easier way for a woman with a huge belly to give a clean catch urine specimen!  It’s hard enough to use the wipes to clean with when you can’t see what you’re wiping, but then to have to get the pee into that little cup, when you can’t see the pee or the cup, and can barely get the cup down there in the first place?  Why isn’t there a government study to find a better way to do this?)

But most of all, I'm going to savor these days and weeks of being pregnant.  This might be the only time I'm ever lucky enough to experience this miracle.