Don't Call Me, I'll Call You

A few months back, I wrote an article about the top five things you should never say to a pregnant woman. I thought I had a pretty comprehensive list, cautioning readers to avoid saying things like, “You are huge!” and “Should you be eating that?” But if I could write the article over, I would certainly add, “Is the baby here yet?” to the list.

As I approach my 42nd week of pregnancy, I’ve been overwhelmed with calls, texts and e-mails from friends and family members who think they missed out on the big announcement. I can’t tell you how tired I am of having to tell everyone that I’m still waiting. And I can’t tell you how annoying it is to have to pretend to laugh when I hear, “Oh, he’s a stubborn one!” for the 99th time.

If I sound a little annoyed, it’s because I am. I know that everyone is just excited and concerned about me, but it only makes me more anxious and concerned myself. While I’m doing my best not to obsess about when my little guy will make his debut, people’s calls force me back inside my head. They force me to wake up every morning wondering if today will be the day. They make me nervous that every bit of movement is the start of something. And worst of all, they leave me disappointed, thinking something is wrong with me because I haven’t gone into labor yet.

And even though I’ve told everyone that I’ll make sure they know the moment #2 is here, they ignore my request for space and check on me relentlessly. I don’t want to appear ungrateful, but I have to appeal to everyone who has been on baby watch for the past three weeks – If you don’t hear from me, it’s because NOTHING HAS HAPPENED! No one wants this whole thing to be over more than me (and maybe my husband). So don’t worry about missing out on the news. If you’re anywhere in the tri-state area, you’ll probably hear me shouting from the rooftops when this whole ordeal is over!

Past Due!

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be in a hurry to experience tremendous pain, but believe it or not, that is exactly what’s happening. For the past couple of days, I’ve been going out of my mind trying to figure out what I can do to trigger my body into labor.

The rational me knows that due dates are totally arbitrary, and that babies rarely have any regard for what doctors and midwives think they’re going to do. However, the impatient me, who can barely sleep with anticipation, (and 30 extra pounds of baby weight) finds it very difficult to deal with the fact that my little guy is four days past the day he was projected to arrive.

It probably doesn’t help that my friends and family have been calling and texting me like crazy thinking that they’ve missed out on some big news. I’m sure it has to be a major buzz-kill to hear that I’m sitting at the playground rather than in my birthing pool. I’ve been trying to convince them to place their bets on a date to make things interesting.

I try to stay sane by telling myself that this is exactly what’s supposed to happen. One of the major reasons we decided on a home birth was to allow the labor process to happen organically. Part of that means surrendering to the process mind, body and spirit. I’m lucky enough to have the chance to have a childbirth do over, and erase all of the bad memories I had from my Pitocin-induced, botched epidural experience. I just hope that this kid’s stubbornness isn’t a sign of things to come!