This is a weird feeling, considering my last pregnancy ended abruptly with the emergency delivery of Rhys and Quin at 33 weeks.
As of my appointment with the midwife today, the baby is no longer breech...following a week that consisted of three visits with a chiropractor who specializes in the Webster technique, lots of DIY moxibustion, a heavy dose of Pulsitilla, hours of inversion, and a totally fast, painless, and successful version. I'm so thankful that we're back on course for the VBAC, even if I am still reeling from the stress of the situation and dealing with it like an uninhibited ninety-year old woman with a knack for saying all the inappropriate things that cross her mind and no thoughts of apologies.
Now we wait.
On the one hand, I love the waiting. I have something awesome about to happen - I don't know when or how or what it will be like, but at this point birth is pretty much a guarantee. Though I did see a TLC show once about a woman who had been pregnant for something like sixty years. But that unfortunate woman aside, this kind of feels like when you have a box full of maple sugar candy in front of you and not even one has been nibbled yet, and you know you're about to go hide in a corner somewhere and just gorge yourself. The delicious anticipation. If you're not from a maple sugar candy area, I'm sorry.
And then on the other hand, there's the reality that the time between now and delivery may seem short to those who are not carrying an extra human being in their womb while chasing two toddlers around all day, but for those of us who happen to be in that boat, well, OH MY GOD HOW AM I GOING TO GET THROUGH NEXT WEEK BECAUSE THE DAYS ARE SOOOO LONG AND THERE IS STILL SNOW ON THE GROUND AND THE WEATHER ISN'T LOOKING LIKE WE'LL BREAK THE FORTY DEGREE MARK IN THE NEXT FIVE TO SEVEN DAYS.
And I want to see her. I want to see her eyes, and whether or not she has hair, and if she looks like Rhys or Quin or Kyle or me or none of us...I want to experience this birth process that I've been fascinated with for as long as I can remember...
I'm so close and so far. I try to settle in and remember that it's always more exciting to have the full box of maple sugar candy rather than just the empty wrappers with a few maple crumbs in the corner of the box, but then I remember that that's a terrible metaphor because in this case instead of empty wrappers I get an actual baby that I get to keep.
So there's that.
I thought writing might help me find a nice Zen place. Instead I find that since I rarely write anymore, I'm rusty, which means my writing is 1. of poor quality and 2. hardly satisfying.
Instead of some nice Zen insight, I offer a crude summary:
- Baby is, at this point, head down.
- VBAC plans are, at this point, a go.
- I am, at this point, excited and anxious as shit.