Back to waiting

I had December 29th all set up in my mind. I was making my peace with the idea of surgery, and getting excited at the idea of actually knowing what day my son would be born. Letting go? Allowing life to take its course? That stuff's for losers.

As I arrived at my doctor's appointment this week, I was informed that the date had been changed to December 28th. One day earlier even! One less day to wait! Okay, I could do this. If breech was our fate, and I was potentially destined to deliver all my children via C-section ("normal" birth after a C-section is apparently not so common)... at least I'd get a date to circle on the calendar. And I wouldn't have to worry about wasting two weeks of my maternity leave just sitting around my apartment, staring up at the ceiling.

Oh, silly Allison. You should know better than to get too attached to any idea of how birth will be. As it turns out, Little Steff Man pulled a dramatic, last-minute maneuver and turned head down for me. My own "mother's intuition" being somewhat underdeveloped (ahem), it took a sonogram to tell me this. I should have known, really. I had stopped getting quick, stabbing kick pains in my lowest parts. I had started feeling movement higher up and waaay to the right, something completely new. Etc. etc. I guess I was just so eager to have a definitive plan that I ignored the actual signs as they presented themselves to me.

It's back to waiting, then. This is good. I want to do this the way women have been doing it for thousands of years. I want to know what labor is like. I've managed to switch gears now, from researching C-section recovery to reading up on how to tell false labor from the real thing. It's all good... but I still kind of hate the uncertainty. When will it all go down? In four days? In four weeks? Guess I'll just have to let go. Let life take its course. Gol.

22 / 16 / Really, who knows?

 

This is it.

Okay, not really. It's not it yet, though I feel like I'm constantly on pins and needles. Just about time, right? Any day, right? Ooh, is that a cramp? The earliest sign of labor?

Tomorrow, Tuesday, marks the day that our little one is officially considered "full term." 37 weeks. He could be born tomorrow and not be considered premature. That means he's more or less ready to come out, right? Any time now, right? Ooh, is that another cramp?

Doing the math then, there are 22 days to go. Only, there might not be. More accurately - according to my doctor - there probably aren't. Little Steff Man, determined to do things his own way, is breech. Butt down actually, with his legs folded up close to his face. There is, apparently, not a doctor on the East Coast who will deliver a breech baby. I've done acupuncture, I've tried moxibustion, I've layed at home with my face in the ground and my backside high in the air. No success. In the face of all this, and as the window of "he can still turn" has just about passed, I've been scheduled for a C-Section. December 29th. 16 days from now. 16 days! That's just a little more than two weeks! Is that possible? Honestly, I kind of thought I would just be pregnant forever; never actually have the child.

There are about a million different thoughts going through my head. Sadness at the thought of missing out on labor. Nervousness about the possibility of surgery (I've never even sprained an ankle before). Certainty that there must be something I'm forgetting to research. Uncertainty: has it finally become too much to walk to work? Above all these though, is the one thought that comes to me strongly and regularly during the course of each day: my lord, I can't wait. I can't wait to meet him, to look into his eyes for the first time, to be his mother. I'm glad this thought trumps everything else, because it's helping me get past the details and just focus on that one important thing.

Ooh, is that a cramp?

A final bit: nicknames we've been using these last months:

*Milk-fed piglet

*Sweetmeat

*Chubba the Hut (after a recent ultrasound picture seemed to show an enormous set of cheeks and a weird, Jabba The Hut-like eye)

*Little Monkey

*Chen (won't try to explain the pronunciation; this is the German suffix that makes something a diminutive. It's basically like calling him "Little.")

*Scrumchkin (scrumptious munchkin)

Just a couple more weeks and we can use his real name...

Yup. Capricorn.

It happened for the hundredth time this past Sunday. I was out, this time at an organic cafe. After I had finished my almond-honey-date smoothie (and man, was it good) and the bill had been paid, my friendly, dreadlocked waiter looked at me and smiled. "When is your baby due?"

"January. Early January."

"Ah. A Capricorn."

This has been the biggest surprise for me. I can't tell you how many times people have said this to me. Cashiers, waiters, people waiting in line with me at the pharmacy, etc. Just about any time a stranger asks me about my due date, I know that a short discussion of astrology will probably follow. Who knew?

Am I the only person who doesn't put much stock in astrology? Am I also the only person who hasn't memorized the date ranges of each of the signs? I couldn't tell you the signs of anyone I know, even though I know their birthdays. The only reason I even know he'll be a Capricorn is that it's my sign too. What comes after Capricorn? Danged if I know. Who's compatible with Capricorn? No clue. And anyhow, really? Everyone who was born in June is compatible with everyone who was born in February? I find that hard to believe.

Not to sound dismissive or skeptical. I don't disbelieve all this - it's just never been something I've been interested in learning about. And I guess I assumed that much of the world felt the way I did. So much for that belief!

When all is said and done though, I kind of enjoy hearing the "ooh, he'll be a Capricorn!" comments. You know how strangers are always approaching pregnant women and touching their bellies? This has never happened to me, thank goodness. Instead, I've had a different sort of intimate interaction. These lovely people have been reaching out to me for just a minute, excited about a little portion of my son's identity. And even if it's in a way that I can't completely relate to, I appreciate it.

Yes, he will be a Capricorn. And yes, I agree. Capricorns are good people.