It’s obvious to me that I’m never going to have this child, but will live the rest of my life huge, sore, irritable and unhappy. I was in there last night until after 1:00, and then they sent me home. The new trick to dealing with contractions is to take a lovely benedryl/tylenol cocktail and try to sleep them off. If I can sleep thru them, then don’t go in. I’m now at three centimeters, so I am dilating, just exceptionally slowly – and all the activity is just making me more uncomfortable with muscle soreness and increased contractions, but not actually doing much to move labor along. I literally cried like a toddler last night when the nurse told me that I wasn’t actually dilating anymore and that I should just go home. Apparently, I’m in early labor and it could happen later this afternoon, tomorrow, or next week sometime. Everything hurts, I’m still having contractions, and I’m so insanely frustrated.
With Jess and Sam – I didn’t have any contractions until I was in labor. So if I’m having contractions, I’m conditioned to think “yep, this is it, let’s go” and it’s really hard for me to grasp that these contractions don’t actually mean much of anything. I told Marc last night that he was now in control of when I go in and when I don’t, because I’m obviously too clueless to figure it out on my own. I want so badly to have the baby that I convince myself I’m in active, hard labor, when I’m actually not. I feel ridiculously stupid, on top of just so tired and sore and desperate for the pregnancy to be over.
I know I should be cherishing these last few weeks of pregnancy, and the baby is moving and kicking and dancing around in there – but if one more person points out to me that the baby will come when she’s ready and I can’t rush it – I’m going to just flat out lose it. Obviously, I can’t will myself into labor, because, believe me, I’ve tried. And the facts are that I could go another three or four weeks before the baby comes. I know this. I just … want it over so badly.
I want to hold my baby girl. I have everything set and ready for her, her clothes are washed and folded and her swing and bouncy seat and car seat are lined up in the living room waiting.
I want not to be pregnant anymore. I want so badly to be physically ME again, to be able to swing my legs out of bed and jump up in the morning, to be able to pop out of the car or up from the couch. I want to wear real clothes again, I want no more heartburn, I want, I want, I want…. I know, she’s going to come when she’s good and ready, and I need to just chill out and relax, and I’m going to attempt that.
Because really, the early newborn stage is rough. I’m just trying to convince myself of that – because it’s actually my favorite time. When the baby is so tiny and sweet and so perfectly content just to be next to you. When the wants are needs, and they’re so easy to meet, nursing all the time and rocking her, tucking her into a sling and walking around, showing her the sunshine. When you exist on baby time, and two o’clock in the morning is the most beautiful time, because nobody else is there and it’s just you and your baby and you know that everything in right in the world.
I just want my baby.
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