Oh my goodness. I am having a baby tomorrow.
I am having a baby tomorrow.
This is all so different from last time. For obvious reasons. Last time was an ordeal; it was chaos; it was joy and anguish, it was the unknown.
Now, it's all very planned, clinical, scheduled in. I can say things like, "By noon, I'll have a new baby."
I've been debriefed about what to expect by having a c-section (as I sat back wryly, thinking I've done this all before, and I wasn't given any pre-orders, I was rushed down a corridor and my twins were extracted in a flurried frenzy), how to roll out of bed (ouchie. I remember this, getting out of bed is the worst after a c-section), that sort of stuff.
This time, I was sitting with a group of women, cracking jokes about how we're going to order mahoosive platters of sashimi the moment we are given the go-ahead to eat, and how we'll see each other "bright and early in the morning!" big smiles, excitement, jangly nerves.
I'm nervous and so excited and so goddamn emotional. I've almost made it. I am still too scared to say, "this is it." Only on Saturday I had a scare; a horrible wobbly where I didn't feel her move or kick for a few hours. I am so acutely aware of her movements and rhythms, that when there feels like there's a gap, I start to go through the motions. I lie on my side, prod my stomach, drink the ice cold water. No one else knows about the sea of panic I face when I realise she hasn't moved in a while. I don't tell my husband or anyone. I just tap into my safe place and concentrate.
Saturday no amount of prodding or poking or anything seemed to rile her. I started to shake, panic and cry. I hit a level of panic I haven't done yet in this pregnancy, where I worried that if she had died, I may never come back myself. This would be me; check me into an asylum.
We roared to the hospital around the corner and they hitched me up to a monitor (after waiting for what seemed like hours). All was OK. Panic over. Just a few more days, just a few more days.
Besides the surgery and obvious stillborn-related worries, I am also acutely aware of two other things: my last few hours with my son as an only child, and my final afternoon nap.
I tried to have one this afternoon. Too many thoughts and nerves and excitement in my head to actually sleep, while deeply contemplating the irony of this as it is my last afternoon nap for what could be years.
I'm scared of the sleep deprivation and three hourly feeds. The 24 hours cycle that feels like it will never end. No amount of mental preparation prepares you; but maybe previous experience helps to soften the blow.
Just a few more hours, and we will have a spanking new daughter.