Alright ladies and gents,
It’s just about that time. The time where I will be pushing my body to it’s most extreme challenge to date: child birth.
I’m pretty sure Iron Man competitions have nothing on what I’m about to go through! (Okay, that’s a lie).
Phrases like “pushing a watermelon out of a straw” come to mind, and as much as I think I know what to expect—I have no idea what to expect!
These days whenever I get a particularly good head-butt to the cervix, I think “could this be it?” And with every blow to the bladder, I wonder: is my water going to break? Or am I just going to pee myself? I think of the date, and wonder “Does this sound like my baby’s future birth date?” (Because apparently, I think I have psychic abilities to know these things).
I’m reminded of a time in my life when I was 11 years old and was expecting to get my period for the first time. The doctor told my Mom that I was an “early bloomer” and that I would probably get my period soon. So, my mom had the talk with me and told me what to expect: red blood in my underwear. I had a private hidden stash of pads in my backpack (concealed in a ziplock bag, wrapped in some fabric, shoved in a make-up bag, hidden in an inside a secret zipper.) I was ready.
So every day, for what felt like months, I would wonder “Is today the day that I’ll finally get my period?” I remember mistaking the red fuzz from my Northern Reflections track pants as blood on my underwear.
“Mom! Come here! Is this my period?!?”
“No honey. That’s not even blood.”
(I wish I was joking about this story) Anyway, fast forward three more years and that is when I got my period!!!
I just hope that waiting for this baby to come isn’t a repeat of that experience. Otherwise, I’ll be pregnant for three years and I’ll definitely be going past my due date (February 24th—for the record).
As you can imagine, for someone who gets incredibly excited about things like myself, I’m finding it hard to be ultra Zen about this whole thing. Although I am really trying. Pre-natal yoga and all!
I try breathing down into my vag and saying soothing things like “baby, you’re welcome to come into this world whenever you like.” But then I quickly add, “...the sooner the better cuz I’m really freaking excited to meet you.”
deep breath... still trying to be Zen here....
When will be the day? When will this all go down? Tonight? Maybe. Tomorrow? It’s possible!
Wait. What was that? A contraction?
C’MON BABY WARMAN—I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ALREADY, WHY WON’T YOU COME A LITTLE EARLY SO WE CAN HANG OUT? IT'S FUN OUT HERE, I PROMISE! YOUR DAD AND I CANNOT WAIT TO HUG YOU AND KISS YOU AND TOTALLY SPOIL YOU WITH LOVE!
Your very excited and incredibly impatient Mom (& Dad—though he does have a lot more patience. Or pretends to at least)