I’m Ready To Meet My Boy
I’m officially ready to have the baby. I got my haircut. I’ve had my wax. A girlfriend took me to get my toes and nails done. And fellow blogger Berit will be glad to know I finally packed my hospital bag. Whew. All in the nick of time, since each day it feels like he gets lower and lower.
Today I feel him in my thighs. Tomorrow it will probably be my knees. A far different experience from Fia who was up in my neck until the very end. Never dropped through 24 hours of labor and 2 hours of pushing.
What is weird this time around though, is having a scheduled C. Especially when my daily encounters with complete strangers go like this:
“Wow, you are ready to pop! Must be any day now, huh?” Or “You must be having twins. When is the due date?”
To which I say, “Wednesday the baby is coming.”
They look at me slightly confused like, is that your due date? How do you know the baby is coming on Wednesday? Are you psychic?
Me, being the over-explainer that I am, then feel the need to elaborate. Lest I be judged.
“I’m having a scheduled C-section,” I say. (After that sentence, I assume they are judging and I babble on). “My first was a horrible labor followed by a C-section, so we’re just going straight for it.” And on I go. Sometimes I even explain the epidural falling out, the doctors hands trying to reach up and turn her, etc. This, to people I will never see again. TMI.
I’m not sure why I feel the need to justify the way I’m giving birth. In the UK they have a saying for their celebrities who schedule their C-sections. “Too posh to push.” (I’m sure Posh Spice had nothing to do with that…). Maybe I don’t want people to make the assumption that that is my situation. Because it’s not. Though I will say, I have enjoyed having a plan in place. And I guess if I’m being honest, there is a part of me that is relieved to not be pushing a baby out down there. And I’m happy for the excuse to go straight for the knife. It’s never been a primal need of mine–especially after last week’s final OB visit, when the ultrasound tech said I’m on track for at least an 8-pound baby. (She also remarked on how low his head is…)
But it is still weird to think I’ll be meeting the little dude on Wednesday at the latest.
I’ve tried to really savor these last few days with just me and Fi. We went to the zoo, went and rode trains, we have lots of “cozy” time on the couch or post nap… Phil too. It’s so surreal to think we’ll be a family of 4 soon (5 if you include Wayne Sanchez). And yet, at the same time, so natural. Unlike my birth, but as long as he comes out healthy I don’t care.
It’s time to meet you little man. We’re all waiting!