Sunday, May 30, 2010

Very low

So, I went to the doctor yesterday. It was not a great experience. I want to say the doctors here suck, but doctors suck all over the world. What I miss is any kind of tenderness. Any awareness that it is another person's body they are tampering with. Not a conglomeration of skin and cells to be meddled with. I say this because I had asked the doctor to take a look at my pee-exhausted nether regions to make sure all looked normal and healthy. I have been peeing every ten minutes or so lately and I have felt quite raw. So, I put my legs up in those insane stirrups (they don't use the stirrups in Australia or the U.S. to my recollection) and he jams/rams/slams his hand (although it feels like an arm) up inside me. It hurt. It hurt a lot. And it also hurt because I wasn't ready for this "assault" and as I had said, the whole area is tender and sensitive. As he squirmed inside he said, "The baby's head is very low, very low".

After he took his hand/arm out he again repeated the verdict. And, "You will deliver before your delivery date. Very soon probably".

I ambled back to the chair almost in tears. Why? More because of the sense of invasion I felt. Of my own corporeal privacy and the privacy of the baby itself. It didn't need its head felt by this man. It was a strange feeling. The realness of it all hit home. There was something in me and it has to come out. And his little head can be felt inside me, ready, waiting to come out...

I emailed the woman who I hope to have as my birth doula when I returned home. Eager to seek comfort in a more gentle wisdom. She told me that the head being low isn't necessarily a indicator and women can even deliver late even if the head is "engaged". I went online and found a lot which asserts this also.

So, so, now I am not sure what to think except that I don't feel ready, however will I ever?

This is life. No control. Never ready for what is next. And again, who would have thought, this day a year ago I would meet the father of this baby? Not me. I was walking slowly to the cafe where I would end up meeting him, lethargic, annoyed, not really paying attention to the foot prints I was leaving in the brown dust road. Foot prints. Feet, that would take me to
him
and the
"very low" head
inside
me.

Instant

There seems to be less and less to say. Now reality becomes wordless. Time is approaching. Whether I like it or not, at some point in the next four weeks (or maybe six if he is late), I will give birth. It's difficult not to be apprehensive. I don't even know what I am scared of? I guess the pain, but more the fear of things going "wrong". And then lately I get hit with the sense that something really radical is about to happen and I don't even know how radical it is. But, I am also scared of my life changing in a way that impedes movement. On the one hand I am so excited to enter this new part of life, and on the other hand, I am nervous about how life changes. No more just rushing out to do what I want when I want. No more deciding to go to a movie on a whim with my guy. No more lazing around in bed on a Sunday morning. Yeah, yeah, this is nothing new. And I know that when it happens it just happens and life is like that. We anticipate the future and then the future comes and then we are like, oh, here I am.

So, I am nervous. Things seem strange. Every time I go to the bathroom I look for this mysterious "bloody show". Is he going to come early? Will my water break when I am sitting in a cafe? And my lord, when he moves these days he hurts! The other night I was up half the night walking around to put him to sleep, and he isn't even born!

This past Friday we went and looked at another hospital. We sat in a room with fifteen other pregnant women and their partners waiting for the "tour guide". I, of course, immediately remarked that I seemed "fatter than the other women". It's a mystery to me how women can keep their skinny arms and legs while pregnant. In any event, the "tour" was in Hebrew and my guy translated. The tour guide woman was hard core and was pretty much against everything we believe in regarding natural birth. So, we are not giving birth there.

Anyway. Doctor tonight so will see what the progress of all things baby is. The room is set up. My hospital bag packed. I feel calm in some ways, panicked in others. Tomorrow is the one year anniversary of me and my guy. How life can change
in
an
instant.

This time last year while living in Costa Rica I was being badgered by my friend to come to a cafe where her friend worked. I finally relented. The next day I walked in. He was sitting there. My friend introduced us. I shook his hand and was like, "Oh, here he is". And,
here
I
am.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Closer

The other day me and my guy went to check out a hospital. It had two natural birthing rooms which I wanted to see specifically. The room itself was great. Clean and comfortable and with an adjoining bath and shower. I could see myself getting comfortable in the room. Unfortunately, the rest of the hospital wasn't so great. It seemed rather drab and a little weird to me. But then, I think all hospitals are weird. It was a strange experience. It is strange for me to think of giving birth in a hospital. It doesn't seem intuitive. Like, I should be giving birth in my bed. Or at home at the very least. Like somehow it is just some big, bad terrifying menstrual period and I should just be where I feel comfortable.

But, no. The hospital is where I will go for my first child. We are seeing another one on Friday.

All getting stranger and stranger. It's like, really? You mean I really have to get this thing out? And the bigger he gets (and the more painful his movements are), the more I freak out at this prospect.

Now his room is organized and my hospital bag packed. It seems out of character to me for me to be this organized in advance, however it gives me some peace, some sense of control. Now, at the first sign of labor, I can sink into it knowing that I have prepared and there is order to my life and to his first entry into the world.

Of course, the more I know, the less I know, and

anything

can

happen....

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Dreams

So, welcome. Welcome to anxiety, my newish friend. I have now entered a new pregnancy phase. Anxiety. It isn't really focused on anything in particular, but generally around the birth and the bizarre fact that I will be having a baby.

Last night I had a dream I was in a baby store buying a glass for my baby (lord knows why a baby would ever need a glass?) and I am holding it in my hand when the store person grabs it out of my hand and gives it to someone else. I am in shock and start saying that I had the glass first and it was for my baby and she said, well, I gave it to this woman and there is another store (which was miles away in the dream) I can get another glass in. But, I was so angry! And I started crying and shouting, no, I had the glass first!

It was not a good dream and perhaps a reflection of my anxious state of mind.

So, here he is. Inside still. Figuring out in his own time when that symbiotic dance of childbirth will begin. I have five weeks to go in an ideal world. I am 35 weeks today. It seems so tenuous this process. So riddled with complication. And the promise of pain so fruitful.

And I have no control over what will happen. None.

Monday, May 17, 2010

Ramblings...

Many thoughts, many observations...

Today, finally, I saw a foot doctor. I have an inflamed foot, possibly a stress fracture, from all the weight. Nothing to be done about it except not to walk on it. So, what can I say? It happens to feel a little better these past few days which makes me happy. Otherwise, still with the heart racing, hot flush, difficulty breathing moments and I have resigned myself to this as technically, I have less than six weeks to go of this horror.

In other news, me and my guy (yes, he is now, "my guy", for want of a better term), went to see my friend's one week old baby. Firstly, the baby was so absolutely gorgeous. So tiny and a head full of dark hair. Secondly, the full reality of birth and what's to come hit me like a punch. I am starting to get scared about the birth. The way women talk about it. Like this pain that sends them into another universe. I just can't imagine it! I mean, what I do imagine is really bad period pain. The kind that had me crawled into a fetal position on my bed. Is that it? Or is it way worse so that as my friend did, you "scream like a banshee". Or was it "wail"? And this little thing that comes out. It seems so small, yet it is this perfectly formed human. I can't believe I have one of those inside me?!

Coupled with this experience, my guy and I were generously lent a smorgasbord of baby accouterments from his cousin. We now have toys, more clothes, breast pump, baby bjorn, car seat and crib and stroller to come. It was amazing. Yesterday I went through the toys and it was weird. For the first time, as I was picking and choosing, I was picking the toys I believed would be good for my child. It was kind of cool. Always I was responsible for other peoples' children. Now, my own. I am responsible for this human being. As I put the few toys I collected onto his second shelf (the first with his clothes), I shed a tear. It hit me a little. Again. The reality.

However, that said, the other day I went into a depression, thinking that maybe I will cause pain to my child and that maybe I made the wrong decision in having him? Maybe me and my guy will never feel comfortable living in each others countries? Maybe this little child will have a wounded heart one day? And maybe I will be the cause? All I can do, is hope for the best. That this child will be adventurous and brave and happy to be a child of different cultures. He is privileged. He has Israel, Australia and America to live in. He has choice.

And I have choice.

So, for now, I choose Israel and my guy and this little being, almost baked,

to perfection.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

The quest

Well, tomorrow I will have six weeks to go and it feels like I am in some mythic journey where towards the end of the quest there is some horrible dragon I have to fight, just when I thought I could see the golden treasure. Yesterday my blood sugar tested very high and so this morning I had to get tested to see if I may have (at this late stage), gestational diabetes. This is not cool for so many reasons. The main one being that the baby may get too big and then I would have to get induced as he may have to come early. The eating I can manage. It's just the anxiety of yet another configuration of this pregnancy to deal with.

Meanwhile, no bananas for me now as even though I apparently need the potassium (which was tested again today), I can't have the sugar. So, things are great. Ah hem.

Finally seeing a foot doctor on Monday for this bizarre painful foot.

So yeah, it just feels quite arduous right now. I have been told that once I have the baby I will feel almost normal. I am excited for this. I am excited for this more than I am excited for the baby. But, I know it will still be a slow and unexpected recovery.

I will fight the dragon and hope that there are no more beasts I have to contend with, although of course I still have to plunge into icy waters and somehow hold my breath while I figure out where the damn treasure is, all the while being chased by some green fanged monsters. When I finish, what will the treasure be?

Thursday, May 6, 2010

A shout out

A few weeks ago my boyfriend and I made it "official". Here in Israel you can obtain a card which provides that you are De facto. It is pretty cool. It is for any De facto couple, straight or not. We just went in and signed some documents stating we were in fact living together etc, and we received a credit card sized acknowledgment of our status. So, now he is not my boyfriend, but my partner. But, I am not sure I like the word "partner"? Maybe he is my "boyner" or my "parfriend", oh wait, my "parboy". Whatever he is, he is pretty cool and every day and more and more I am feeling so grateful that not only is he in my life, but that he will be the father of my child.

Yup, pretty lucky. And this kid. He is going to be so lucky to have him as the father (the jury is out on me as a mother).

So now me and the "one I love" (a.k.a. OIL) will wait...7 more weeks...

Yes, that's it, me and my Oil.

Potassium depletion

In yet another effort to figure out what has been going wrong with my body, we went to a new doctor last night. He, finally, took my symptoms seriously and sent me along to the ER at the local hospital. Three hours later and no real answers. I have low potassium and my blood sugar was high. I have read a bit about low potassium and that may explain my heart racing situation (and my limp). For now, all I can do is eat bananas and wait and see what is next. It is exhausting.

The final injustice was that just as we were about to leave the night shift nurses came on duty. And well, one of these night shift nurses was nine months pregnant! I felt like such a light weight. Here she was, huge and working the night shift! So, I have now been silenced. Well...

So another day feeling awful. Today officially I have 7 weeks to go. What can I say? I am depleted by this experience. Who knew about potassium? I swear.

Bananas I am and bananas I will eat.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

The baby next door

The baby next door cries CONTINUALLY. Rarely is there a respite. I don't want this kind of baby. I live in an apartment building and often there is crying on all sides. It isn't newborn baby crying. More like 6 month to one year old crying. It makes me crazy. And in these moments I think uh oh.

I hope my baby is not a crying one. Sometimes I look at babies or small children and think that they came out unhappy. They didn't really want to be here...I hope mine wants to be here.

Right now as the time gets closer and closer (7 weeks tomorrow), I feel more alien toward the fetus rather than more loving (apropos my last entry). He hiccups non-stop and his movements are still there banging against something or rather, but I still don't feel so connected. One thing I attribute to this is the last 3D scan. I think the image looked so foreign to me that I really didn't feel related to this being at all.

And sometimes I think, OK he will be a cute baby but then he will be a smelly teenager and a man I may or may not like. I think we put too much emphasis on this sacred mothering. Like the bond is untouchable and at least when they are babies we can have an absolute relation to them, although we all know with our own parents that it becomes tainted.

I do know, looking about at adult friends of mine, that the more unconditional love they receive, the stronger they are in the world. I guess that's what it comes down to. And so I guess I will have to give it up to mother nature and oxytocin and hope I "bond" with the little guy.

I think for me it is more difficult to feel the connection when I feel so bad in my body. Another doctor tonight to see if we can figure out the heart racing/fainting thing and another doctor to check out my still painful and limping foot. I try not to "blame" the fetus. It isn't his fault my body isn't wired for pregnancy. And we don't choose to be born...

It's all very complicated, but I have a feeling that when he comes out, it will all be very simple. Very simple.

Saturday, May 1, 2010

No judgment

So it begins. Yesterday in a childbirth course class I had my first taste of the overwhelming guilt of motherhood. The charge? That I wasn't "connecting" or talking enough to my baby in the womb. It's true. Unlike the couple in my class who insist on "om-ing" to their baby to "calm" him every night, I have been heard to call my baby a "motherf**ker", especially when he gives me a big jab to some nerve or other. Do I think he can hear me? Well, no, not really. I mean, he can hear my voice, but I doubt he knows what a motherf**ker is (and this is not exactly a regular occurrence). Notwithstanding that, I feel strongly that I should be allowed to have whatever "relationship" I want with my unborn child.

A lot of people talk about how they love their unborn child. The truth is, I can't honestly say I love my unborn son right now. I mean, I care about his well-being. For sure. I am excited to meet him for sure. And, I am touched by his presence. But, I don't feel love per se. I mean, I don't know him. I feel like I can't quite love him right now.

And, I don't want to be judged for this. Like, I am a bad mother already! When I swear when he hits his foot somewhere, I am not self conscious that I am being an unloving mother. There is a difference between swearing to this fetus and swearing to a real live baby (which I would never do). I do strongly believe there is a difference.

Also, I don't want to be made to feel bad because I don't have little chats with this little thing telling him how he is welcome in the world blah blah blah. I have tried a couple of times, but for me it feels artificial. Even the tone of my voice seems forced. "Hi little one", in a high pitched voice. Nope. It doesn't work.

Look, I am sure I am going to adore the little guy. But for now, I want to have the freedom to make my own choices about my relationship to him in the womb. He is coming into a family of absolute love. I am not concerned. So, no judgment.

No judgment.