Well, it seems we have arrived, folks. Tomorrow is the day. Tomorrow is the day that we've been preparing for and thinking about for nine months. Tomorrow is the day we've been telling people since August. Tomorrow is the day a nurse told me I wouldn't make it to two weeks ago, when I spent about 12 hours in steady labor that eventually just decided to give up (they gave me a sleeping pill and sent me home, with a very, "we'll see you tomorrow once this has progressed farther" vibe. And just so we're clear, having your body give up in the middle of labor feels like a ridiculously terrible cheat.) But really, as we all well know, tomorrow means absolutely nothing.
Of course, I am sure that once upon a time I looked at April 27th with a little more skepticism and realism than I have the ability to today. In fact, when people asked about the due date, I would frequently respond "late April, early May". I mean, these things are not an exact science, right? Medical professionals the world over seemed completely flummoxed by what makes a person go into labor. Of course, they might try to push it along, and of course, it seems you can always cut the baby out (though personally I'd rather not feel like a fish being gutted, thank you very much), but in terms of what your body will due naturally and why, well, that's a guess and a gamble at best.
This has been a very long 9 months. While the weather's been better, my back hasn't been as sore, and I'm not nearly as swollen as I was last time, I have to say, this pregnancy, especially the past 5 or 6 weeks, has been pretty rough on me. As much as the doctor insists this is all very "normal" (I'm pretty convinced he says this just to be a jerk, and to make me feel like a wimp), coming to expect blinding and debilitating shots of pain spontaneously every time I'm on my feet doesn't feel normal. It feels annoying. Like last night, when an out of the blue shot of pain was bad enough and long enough to drop me to my knees, just because I got up from bed to walk to the laundry room, roughly 15 feet away. I'm tired of waddling, tired of feeling fragile and disabled, tired of pain, tired of getting up once an hour to use the bathroom.
An interesting thing about pregnancy is that at some point, it always stops feeling like a time of preparation, and starts feeling like your new life. The good part about that though, beside the fact that it leads to this incredible and life changing experience that is parenthood, is that it teaches you to value your body. I was feeling big and old and slow and crippled for many, many months after Madelyn was born. I didn't take care of this vessel, and this vessel responded accordingly. And it was pretty bad.
Some day, some day soon maybe, I'll have a little baby boy in my arms. I'll fall in love all over again, and I'll be filled with joy and exhausted and exhilarated and depressed, frequently all at the same time, if I remember correctly. And in the midst of this, I'll have a whole lot of new reasons to neglect this body once again. It's going to be hard, I know that. Going on any sort of diet again is going to make me very cranky. Forcing myself to schedule in times to start exercising again is going to be a very big problem. But it's worth it. I owe it to my kids. I owe them a mom who is not crippled by her own pains and lack of self control. I owe it to myself and my husband, because who the heck wants to be, or wants to be married to, a 28 year old woman in a 68 year old's body?!? And lastly, I owe it to the one who gave me this body. This is prime real estate I tell ya, and any good property manager would feel obliged to keep it in its best possible shape.
Anyway, hope you're all doing great, and finding your own motivations today! Yes, lots of life is hard, lots of life takes worth, but generally speaking, those are the things that are the most worth it!