40 weeks and a day

The last time I was pregnant, I was pregnant for 43 weeks. oh yes, if you go by the due date of the doctor it was only 41 and a half weeks, but if you go by the way of nature, I was 43 weeks. 43. That isn't 9 months pregnant, thats ten. If you are counting.

People start to psyc you out, and you start feeling crazy.
The funny thing about being pregnant this time around is that, although i have more at stake, Attempting a VBAC (why does a girl have to say "attempting" Why can't the medical people let us use a word that sounds mildly more hopeful, like, STRIVING TOWARD or Heroically perusing) I am high risk (gestational diabetes) and when i come home i have Two, not one, kids to take care of (I mean Addison and Jaiden, all you jokers who call your husband a kid... I am NOT calling Josh a kid, if i was, i would have said three.) And finally, i want to have a natural birth, so that someday I can write a book about it and teach birthing classes. Yet besides these things making it more important for me to have the birth that I want, I think i am really less stressed about it. The first time around, the world feels like it is going to end if you don't have this baby. And while i have never met anyone who was 18 or 24 months pregnant, people around you start convincing you that you might end up being eternally pregnant.

But the second time around, some how, is different. You know from experience, that you will sometime soon stop being pregnant, get to meet your little bundle, and go from sleeping poorly, to waking up 3-4 times a night to feed a little someone. And by this time you have figured out that people are crazy. So when they tell you "you will have this baby on saturday" you respond with, "thanks, you too." Instead of writing it on your calender.

The other thing that is weird about having your second child is that Labor is a totally different mind game. I remember sitting in the bath tub, reading my "ina May" book (famous midwife) and thinking that maybe a C-section would be the easy way out. No craziness, no ripping or tearing. No two, or three day labor. No pain. Just out comes the baby, and they sew you back up. No big deal.
Of course, I knew that wasn't really true, but it sounded really really nice. I wanted someone to tell me that i could have a painless labor. That it would take two hours and i would be laughing. That i wouldn't bleed afterwards.
This time, things have reversed. I know that Getting cut open hurts for a lot lot longer than labor does, and that having staples running around your abdomen like a barbwire fence is much less comfortable than it even is good looking. I know what it is like to have your newborn sleep all the time because they are doped up on your percocet and ibuprofen... Which you are still taking because, face it, you don't like feeling like your guts are being ripped apart ever time you stand up or sit down or rolll over. And, besides knowing what it is like to have had a c-section, I know what it is like to wonder. Wonder what it could have been like, if i hadn't had one. It is taboo in america i know, to question a Doctor's decision or sorry, strong strong suggestion. People tell you things like "you would have died in the prairie, be thankful for modern medicine." (i am thankful! Percocet is AMAZING) And "well maybe that was God's plan for you"
I am sorry to say, but these are NOT encouraging. Really. Yes I am glad i am not living in a wagon wearing a hoop skirt trying to birth. And Yes, I am glad to not live in africa, and fear dying of blood loss or cross contamination because of bad medical conditions. But as far as i am concerned, c-sections are like divorce... They can save your life, occasionally, but usually they are just a bad choice someone made, that leaves a big scar.
but also like divorce, people don't want you to talk about it. They perfer that you just pretend everything is ok.
Its not that i think The doctor was absolutely wrong. Its just that i really honestly don't know. I didn't feel protected, I feel pressured. I didn't feel Respected, I felt rushed and like i was a big annoyance.

Beyond all this though, Labor is something that I have seen differently. It is a huge power. Inside you. Big enough to scare you. Something you can't control. And we are afraid of things we cant control. Yet this power brings us the most precious thing; a baby to hold and to kiss. And strong labor means affective labor. And i am thinking, oh dear, how much of these statements am i going to regret in the very near future.

I have talked to alot of women, and read alot of books, and it seems to me that the biggest thing that enables a woman to cope with this powerful crashing wave called labor is... no, not an epedural. But confidence, support, words, encouragement. All the things that Get a person through a day, these are the things that Get a woman through her labor. Tell me that I am strong, tell me that I am brave, tell me that I am going to make it out alive... without spliting in half, or being eternally pregnant. Without telling me that i would have died on the prairie. Tell me that I am going to hold a little bundle, and that its little wet hair is going to be curly the first week. Tell me that This won't keep going on forever. patience, don't try to rush a woman who is giving birth, don't try to interrupt her to get her to tell you her opinion. If she has an opinion and she wants you to know it, (she is in labor remember) I am sure she will tell you loud and clear. Laboring women don't tend to hold back for the sake of political correctness. (although i have felt the pressure of being politically correct during birth. and it definitely holds the process back.)

The great thing about giving birth is that, its all over. and then you sit there and know that you are a heck of a lot stronger than you thought you were 24 hours ago. Because if anyone had told you how hard it would be, you would have freaked out. But When you do it, and come through it, you suddenly know that you can do anything. (except maybe become an olympic figure skater. You can alway dream though) And you hold a little bundle in your hands (if your hands are functional at this point) and kiss that little face, and know something of true love, and deep sincerity, and wonder what God thought, when he first made adam.

I used to blog...

There was a time in my life when i blogged. I vaguely remember it. I used to write what i was thinking, how i was doing, who i was becoming. Then i met facebook. And Now Instead of saying what i think, or how i feel, or where i am at, I spend my time commenting on other people's one line lifes. Usually with a bit of sarcasm. Sadly. I like my relationship with facebook. But I don't think I really want to be seeing facebook exclusively so to speak. I have seen a few different people's blogs lately, and they have made me want to start using words and sentences again. So here i come, world.

Maybe there is a reason I don't write as much now. It might have something to do with the fact that, addison likes to be on the right side of the computer, pushing the power button about every 15 seconds. Or it could have to do with her liking to be on the left side, hitting the cap lock. It might have something to do with all of my energy being used to make a baby, wash dishes, workout, or abstain from delicious sugary substances. You never know.
I love to write. I think that words are beautiful. I love to write more than i love to talk, sometimes i love it more than i even love to read. I definately love it more than talking on the phone. I would rather lose my phone. Not that i ever do it on purpose. but maybe i will sometime.

I have very limited intelligence as i write this. My eyelids are barely open. The only reason I am NOT taking a nap is because Addison is trying to fall asleep in my room. Her room is currently being used as a work shop. So as soon as she is asleep, I will take a nap, but until then, i am trying to keep my eyelids open and stay awake. This happens quite often, me, trying to stay awake, but not succeeding in my idea of the true definition of "awake." (which is defined by oxford, simply as this "not asleep") Perhaps this lack of mental awareness, or being fully awake, and 100% NOT sleeping, perhaps this is why I haven't been writing anything. Because mindlessly commenting on other people's lives is so much easier than talking about your own.