So here we be. 37 weeks and counting down the days. How did I even get here?
After months of worrying that maybe I couldn’t get pregnant (well years in reality, but months of rolling the dice and crossing our hearts) followed by the act of really, truly, biologically, scientifically trying…to the fears of making it to 7 weeks, 12 weeks, 20 weeks, 24, then that magical number of 32, and better yet, here we are at 37. Full term, safe and sound, made it through the wilderness to the other side….or did we?
The hard part about this soon-to-be parenthood thing is there are so many pitfalls and booby traps, so many hurdles and instances of jumping over quicksand, you can hardly stay on your feet, or (as you get more pregnant) catch your breath. The oodles of testing, the hours of worry, the nights of unrest, the vomit, aches, pains, fears, the thunder-stealing, heart-wrenching covid… and the worst part….this is just the beginning. Now I’m faced with labour. This is an eventuality that I have barely begun to fathom because there was so much to tackle and attempt to control on the way to this very moment.
We have an almost packed hospital bag, the car seat installed, the stroller and playpen built, crib and bassinet all ready and waiting…but what about me? Am I ready, or am I waiting? This whole thing has been such a mindfuck, such a rollercoaster of emotions and physical strain, I just tried to make it to this space and time. But here I stand, still, uncomfortable and unsure – so now what?
Work was awful, covid awful, the pregnancy has been (I don’t want to say awful, it might be the right word but we will rename it to “challenging”) and me, I’m just ready for a week or two of downtime.
But, I am so big. So very, unbelievably, in my belly, ridiculously round that I don’t know what’s right anymore – finish off the pregnancy and hope for an early labour or earlier inducement, or wait it out to have a week to myself. A week of naps and snacks and TV. A week without so much worry or so much work. But, in that week I will be horribly uncomfortable and infinitely irritable. I don’t know the answer, because you know what – nothing will ever be the same again. To alleviate the uncomfortable is to rush the next phase.
And this is just the tip of the iceberg…..9 days from now, well we have a baby girl, one whom I don’t want to bend, break or fail…and that’s an entirely new kettle of fish. One that I have no recipe for, one extremely large pot that I have no idea how to boil.
“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.”
The Ginga Ninja