Funny how in most of life, one would think “Only 8 days?! That’s so soon!”
But when you are horrendously pregnant, with toes that resemble sausages, a lower back that is always on FIRE, and going to the bathroom every 14.2 seconds…the thought is “8 DAYS?! STILL!?! 8 more rotations of the Earth?! I’m going to DIE.”
Not that I’m that dramatic about it.
Oh wait, I totally am.
The last couple of months of this pregnancy have been tough. Nothing bad is happening so far. Just that being ultra pregnant when you have 3 other littles…and one of whom can’t walk…in a two story house…after your poor uterus has carried twins recently and has nothing of the elasticity it once boasted…
Not to mention the fierce insomnia. Because being achy on no sleep is rad.
Well, let’s just say I’m tired. Worn out. Achy.
While the girls’ pregnancy was much more difficult (hello twin pregnancy that went to 39 weeks…with babies weighing 6 lbs. 6 0z. and 6 lbs. 9 oz., not to mention the PUPPPS. Oh the PUPPPS!!!)…and you realize I’m a paltry 5’2″? Yeah. Not a pleasant experience.
But even then, I only had Henry to care for…and even then, I worked the bulk of my pregnancy and when I did go on (what I thought would be) maternity leave, we had him go to daycare 3 days a week so I could take it easy and keep those babies baking as long as possible. (And bake they did!)
Maybe it’s because I’m 31 now and there’s some magical threshold of virility you pass over when you get into your 30′s. Maybe I’m just a wuss now. Maybe I’m still secretly terrified after having had back to back miscarriages just before this pregnancy. That somehow something will go wrong at the 11th hour and I really just want him in my arms.
Or maybe I’m just irrationally impatient in my old age.
I keep having
wishful thinking visions of my water breaking at all times of the day. In church this week, I had the horrifying realization that if my water broke mid-service, it would run down the slightly sloped hardwood floor and sinceI was sitting in the very last row, every person the whole way down in front of me would have my amniotic fluid all over their feet and/or purses. Because, you know, everyone wears sandals in California. And yeah, I know it’s *just* amniotic fluid…but I think it gets a little weird when it’s some random person’s amniotic fluid.
But sadly, my water is firmly intact and while I’m well acquainted with Braxton Hicks contractions, not much else is happening. No matter how many times I pray that I go into labor.
So I guess I’ll have to wait until my scheduled c-section date. Wednesday, July 11th at 4:30 p.m.
What will you be doing?
I mean, that’s a crazy feeling. The whole world will be going about their day like usual and I’m gonna be sliced open like a watermelon. SUPER weird.
Whenever I see someone with a flat tire on the side of the road…or I hear ambulance sirens…or whatever…I often think to myself: man, someone’s day just got ROCKED. Whatever they thought they were doing today…and maybe even longer than that…it’s been completely turned on its head. And here I am, still just shoveling ice cream down my gullet with no change in my plans.
Isn’t that weird to think of?
So here’s what you should do. Put it in your phones. Yes, my c-section date and time. Then, when your phone beeps at you, just take a look around at what you are doing. And then think “Wow. Jeannett’s strapped to a table about to have her baby cut out of her body at this very second. Weird.”
When I went to my Toyota event, we were joking about this very thing and a couple of the girls actually pulled out their phones and put it in. We all laughed and thought it was funny.
Because if you can’t laugh at the mom who had planned a water home birth with her firstborn…the one who had the birthing tub in her dining room all ready to go and a box of birthing supplies just waiting to be used…that has now gone the full gammut to a scheduled c-section…well, there isn’t much very funny in life.
If you’re really ambitious, snap an Instagram pic of what you are doing when your phone beeps at you on July 11 at 4:30.
Maybe you’re watching TV. Or baking cupcakes. Or surfing the net. Or curing cancer.
Just snap a pic and tag it with #whilejgetscut
I’m really half kidding about the hashtag…but the more I think about it, it WOULD be kinda fun to go back and see what y’all were doing.
You know, while I’m giving birth to my fourth (yet to be named) baby.
Happy Day to you. I’m off to pout that I’m still pregnant. Because yes, I had visions that I would “ironically” go into labor halfway through writing this post.