Today I am 37 weeks pregnant. I am full term. The baby *should* be fully developed, lungs mature, ready to meet me whenever he is ready. I am hoping for later rather than sooner. He seems pretty cozy in there for now. I had to reach 37 weeks in order for me to give birth at home and today is the day. Holy Crap.
I am stressing because now my house has to stay clean. Try telling that to my husband and son! While I am going to admit that I feel pretty darn good for 37 weeks, picking toys up off the floor, constantly washing, drying, folding, putting away clothes, and washing dishes is not as easy as it was a few months ago. I tried to convey this to my husband but I still see a sink full of dishes. I tried to tell my son and he still threw a bunch of books on the floor. *sigh*
My back up birth tub will arrive tomorrow according to UPS. I am aiming to rent an AquaDoula but if the mother currently renting it doesn’t deliver in time before me then I have a back-up Fishy Pool. My birth kit is pretty much stocked except for paper towels (we don’t use them anymore so I have to remember to buy them!) and a naturally sweetened Gatorade alternative since I cannot have the real stuff with Gestational Diabetes. My tiny diapers are laid out along with a tiny t-shirt and a tiny blanket and a tiny hat.
The funny thing is, I have NO CLUE what this kid is going to look like. I dreamed about my first son. We had a few 4D ultrasounds and could tell he had pouty lips and a tiny chin like me. This boy hasn’t even let us see a profile when we had ultrasounds. I can’t even guess what nose and chin he has. Will he have dark hair like Daddy, or will he have my blonde hair like my son?
I can’t say I am feeling excited, or nervous, or dread. I am trying to relish the time I have left as a mother of one. I am giving extra cuddles to my boy and loving on him like there is no tomorrow. I keep telling him about the baby in my belly, which he likes to blow raspberries on, roll his toy cars over, and lift his shirt to bump his belly against. Sometimes, he points to his belly and says “baby.” He might be a little confused. Hey, he is only 22 months!
I keep trying to imagine what the birth is going to be like. I don’t know if that is a good or bad thing. In my mind, I will go to 40 weeks or later. I will have a long labor, but I will have a lot of support. But what if I go next week? And what if my labor isn’t that long? I kind of want a somewhat long labor since I have to get my midwife here (1.5 hour commute). I need time to make sure my house is ready in case it wasn’t before. I need time to mentally prepare myself to give birth again! This time, drug free!
Then what? I will have a new nursling and a rambunctious and lovable toddler. I want to think this is my last baby. I feel like it is. We will see.
In case you are wondering, I do plan on Tweeting and Facebooking during my labor. My husband or doula will likely take over as things progress and I want to throw things. I will use a #twitterbirth hashtag. If it is me tweeting I will sign “-K” and if it is hubby, he will be “-S.” If my doula decides to take a turn expect an “M.” There may or may not be non graphic photos involved. I might tweet often, I might only tweet every hour or longer. I don’t know how this whole thing is going down! If you aren’t already, follow me on Twitter- @KimRosas– and “like” me on Facebook – Dirty Diaper Laundry Fan Page- so you will get an update as I go into labor.
If you read everything on this page, congratulations, you just read a stream of consciousness, unedited blog post from the brain of a pregnant lady!