Today is my 33rd birthday. I’ve already had my chocolate cake. It was wonderful. I made my amazing chocolate cake as cupcakes Monday (recipe available here) and took them with me to ECFE class yesterday morning. They went over quite well…but there were plenty of extras for me to eat on Monday, all day yesterday and this morning. There is even one final, lonely cupcake sitting on the counter right now waiting for my next snack attack. I do love the chocolate cake, and it makes a fine birthday present to myself – especially since I’m reveling in my beached whale status at the moment and not yet actively trying to shed the extra pounds.
I’ve already gotten my present, and it is proving to be a rather fun one. The MP3 player Joe bought for me is good for carrying around quite a handful of CDs on, Julie seems to like the effects of being able to ask for the music she wants in the car, and I’m even trying to motivate myself to organize music to take with me to the hospital when Baby Sophie arrives. Hint: There will be no references to Rubber Duckie, Sesame Street Platinum or otherwise.
Tonight, I have plans for going out to dinner with the Knitting Night girls at the Edina Grill, and I’m really looking forward to seeing them and eating delicious high-end diner food, probably including the Steak Salad Murphy, some sweet potato fries, and very likely a share in their brownie sundae, which is killer and to be eaten only in the company of someone else who will enjoy it too. I think the knitting girls will oblige. We do normally get together at each others’ homes and at least sort of pretend to knit. I get the occasional question about “what do I do next here?”. Really, it’s just a chance for us to all catch up with each other, socialize, gossip, and of late discuss pregnancy, babies, toddlers and all things related to being relatively new moms.
It feels a little weird leaving my family behind on my birthday, but seeing as I’ve already had my cake, my present and my birthday dinner, I may as well go have a nice time with some friends and it will probably take the pressure off of Joe to make me happy on my birthday.
Wanna know what would really make me happy? Getting this baby out of my body! No, I have not yet reached my due date. But I am definitely within the window of safe natural delivery. It could happen today, tomorrow, next week, or even three weeks from now. The anticipation is killing me. Not to mention the last-weeks-of-pregnancy discomfort. The reflux has subsided somewhat – I think because the baby has dropped. I also seem to be able to breathe a little better. On the down side, I’ve got this constant cramping thing going on down there; I’m having braxton-hicks contractions day and night, which makes sleeping interesting, especially when I now have to get up at least once a night to pee…and shh don’t wake up the kid while you’re doing it or she’ll be climbing into bed next to me saying “I want to cuwwle” in her cute little toddler voice. Who could refuse that at 2 in the morning when you’re half asleep and there are an unknown few number of nights before a new baby will be taking over the bed? So what if I’m waking up every morning with an aching body and eyes glued together begging for another couple hours’ worth of sleep?
It’s funny, I don’t really want to share a birthday with our baby. I want her to have her very own special day that is all her own, and I want to do my best to always make it a truly special day for her as long as I live. Joe is not ready for this baby to come out yet. He is excited to meet her, but he is also extremely busy at work and trying to wrap up a couple of projects before he goes on baby-vacation for a week or so. Somehow, I doubt he would really, truly be ready for this baby even if I managed to hold her in for another month. But he will be ready for her when he holds her in his arms for the first time just as he was with Julie.
Speaking of which – that is what I’m really looking forward to. Holding this new little person in my arms, nursing her, staring at her, loving her the way a person never realized they could love someone till they hold their first baby in their arms. To kiss her and hold her tiny hand, to smooth her little hair down, to wipe her tiny little butt, to protect her and keep her safe and warm. I can’t wait to dress her in tiny clothes made with love, to take pictures of her and show her off to the world.
I have to think and talk about this in order for the little aches and pains of pregnancy to seem at all worth it right now. I have to boost up my excitement about this baby as a person so that I will have it as my strength to hold onto while I experience labor and delivery for the first time in my life. I am a little nervous about that these days…not so much about my body and soul being able to do it. I am nervous about dealing with the hospital, the nurses and the midwives. At my last appointment, the midwife dumped the news on me that they will be wanting to break my waters and use internal fetal monitors on me pretty much as soon as I arrive at the hospital. So NOT COOL! Once they do that, the pain of contractions supposedly increases markedly, and my mobility will be extremely limited to in the bed and right by the bed. As someone who is dedicated to a non-medicated birth, this is something that makes me less than happy.
Joe and I have been discussing and practicing delay tactics. First, we will not head to the hospital till I’m really seriously in deep heavy labor. Second, we will ask to wait another hour or so if the external monitors show nothing wrong. Finally, we will tell them that we need a few minutes to talk things over and/or pray about any interventions they are insisting on before we let them do anything. This will allow us to discuss things with our doula, who is not allowed to make a peep when the hospital staff are in the room. One of the doulas suggested the prayer thing the other day. She said hospital staff usually run the moment you mention anything involving religion. So what if our religion happens to be “the church of keep your prying interventions the hell out of my body”?
I’m starting to wonder why I didn’t just plan a home birth. It’s too late now, and really there is a great reason why I’m giving birth in a hospital. I want the NICU and the OR right there just in case there is a problem. I do have a slightly increased risk of uterine rupture since I had a c-section the first time around. It’s a very slight increased risk and somewhat debatable at least according to our doula, but it’s the reason why they want the internal monitor. One thing I don’t think they’re taking into account is that as long as I’m unmedicated, I think I’ll know it if my uterus starts ripping itself to shreds. I think it is the moms who are laying there numb from the waist down with an epidural who need to be told that something is wrong. But that’s just me.
In the end, what really matters is that we have that healthy baby. Second priority is to avoid a c-section so that I can have a faster recovery and get back to caring for my toddler quickly. Having a nice touchy-feely birth experience is a far third priority, and as set in my thoughts as I sound in the last paragraph, I am also busy preparing myself to do what it takes, be it internal monitors, smiling sweetly at meddling health care professionals, or even a c-section to achieve priority number one.