They say that a baby is considered full-term from 37 weeks on. So, naturally, the day I hit week 37, I was more than ready for the baby to emerge.
Worried about labor pains? Nope.
What about all those strangers looking at my wahoo? Couldn't care less.
And the fact that it all meant a real live screaming crying helpless baby would be dropped in my arms and I would be expected to care for its survival?
Bring it out of my body and then we'll worry about that part.
Many people like to tell you how pregnancy is Mother Nature's way of prepping you for a baby: the months of waiting, the sleepless nights...and perhaps they are right. Because all of those things that used to worry you or completely freak you out back around month 5, maybe even into month 7, vanish like the tub of ice cream you skillfully avoided for a few weeks until your last doctor's appointment confirmed enough weight gain to justify not giving a flying fahoo anymore. You become so sick and tired of hearing:
--how the baby has/has not "dropped"
--whether or not you are dilated yet
--if you are excited or nervous or anxious or ___________ (insert Mad Lib emotion here)
--the length and stride of your waddle
--how HUGE you are
and you are so tired of feeling uncomfortable, achy, stretched out, puffed up, and generally an exaggerated cartoon version of your former self that you really do not care what it takes, you just want the baby out...as long as he/she is healthy, of course.
So why does Tom Petty know best?
Because, my friends, "the waiting is the hardest part."
Try what you want, it won't make that baby get here any quicker. I tried deep knee bends and lunges down the entire length of my work hallway. I skipped from room to room. I ate spicy Mexican and Chinese for three straight days. I tackled the traditional list of labor-inducing tips...and I got nothin'.
Except a breech baby discovered during my 39th week and a C-section three days later.
People ask how I feel about having had a C-section. My answer?
Baby is out. So, I LOVE that I had a C-section, because she's here, she's beautiful...
And I no longer have to wear pants that use stretch polyester bands to stay around my waist.
So life is good, with baby and I facing the "great wide open, under the skies of blue." We're learning all kinds of things, like how boob milk can apparently be as addictive as crack, how a clean diaper can be the world's best laxative, how a baby's squeaky half-cry can be the cutest sound in the world, and how life can feel as if it couldn't possibly have ever been anything before she arrived.
Love in a life is what is born. So the waiting? It really is the hardest part. Don't listen to everyone telling you about how "horrific" those first nights and weeks will be. It won't matter, because all you'll think is..."here comes my girl, here comes my girl. Yeah, and she looks so fine; she's all I need tonight."
And when she won't stop crying, just crank some Tom, sit back, and enjoy while life and love happen all around and in front and within you.
**The journey continues at "Becoming the 'M' Word," (www.becomingm.blogspot.com) if you care to follow along as I bid goodbye to pregnancy and say hello to the "m" word...motherhood.**
