Week 37 ~ September 9, 2002
~ Batter, Batter SWING!
This week I feel like a baseball. The pitcher has thrown me-a fastball-90 miles per hour, and I am rapidly approaching the hit of a solid bat. The batter is not some no-name, less than average player. This batter is guaranteed to hit. I can't sway; I can't curve; I'm destined to smacked straight to the outfield-perhaps becoming a home run.
How does this relate to pregnancy, you might ask? Simple enough-I'm hurtling toward labor, delivery and life changes tantamount to none other I've experienced. I'm still not frightened of labor. I'm frightened of my soon-to-be changed life. It isn't as if Steve and I have spent our lives jetting around the world, each trip at a moment's notice, but our married life thus far has been relaxing. It has been filled with days of togetherness and bonding, of love focused solely on each other. And now, well, our lives won't be the same. Ultimately, I know I'm thrilled. I'm excited, jubilant and eager; yet, I'm ambivalent, scared and out of control.
What does one do when she is hurtling toward Sammy Sosa at home plate? Well, at 90 miles per hour, there isn't a heck of a lot she can do, except close her eyes, take a deep breath, and plunge forward.
I knew I'd experience some anxiety at some point in my pregnancy, but what prompts this mourning over a previously-led lifestyle at this late stage of the game? It isn't as if I didn't recognize the upcoming change, but why couldn't I have addressed these feelings earlier, at, say, 10 or 15 weeks into pregnancy rather than 9 days before delivery? Perhaps setting the delivery date (September 18th at 7:30am) pushed an ideal to reality? I'm curious; do other pregnant women grieve over lives that are really not lost? Surely so. I can't be so lucky as to be THAT unique.
It's interesting discussing my newfound fears with others. The reaction is pretty generalized-I receive words of support and encouragement. I am told that my husband and I will experience a relationship in a whole new realm-we'll be closer than ever, we won't be able to imagine our lives without children, we'll cherish the birth of our son.
All true, I know, but if truth always relinquished fears, I suppose most of us would be described as fearless-not an adjective that can be used to describe any human, no matter what brave front is presented.
So enough analogies for one day-in other news, so far I've not been put on full bed rest. I still get my four hours of work-all good for our finances, but I still must resist running around in the evenings and on weekends. I can't believe that I've only one more week of work, as my maternity leave officially begins on Friday, September 13th. Should I begin leave on Friday the 13th? Oh heck-I may as well. It isn't as if I'm superstitious. Also, I had my weekly OB appointment this morning, and, much to our surprise, Sam is as breech as any baby can getůSo, in light of my complications, we scheduled a Caesarean section rather than an induction. My feelings on having a C-section? Neutral. I'm just happy that we will have our baby in our arms-and I don't have to get an episiotomy! Yippee!