Gosh, I feel like I have so much to share. We'll see if I can do it in some sort of orderly fashion, but if not, just bear with me.
First off, I am just a few days out from our due date. What does that really even mean? Nothing. I mean it means something, of course, but really it doesn't mean much. One thing it does mean is A LOT of anticipation. And I am realizing with each day how much I am really anticipating this momentous occasion. There is a lot to anticipate. It is a whole new world that I don't know, both labor and motherhood.
So there are a few things that I have occurred in the last couple days that have made me realize just how much I am anticipating our little girl's sweet arrival.
First off, Danny and I went to a beautiful wedding on Saturday. If you know me at all, you know I love to break it down on the dance floor...9 months pregnant or not. For whatever reason, I happened to be experiencing a lot of Braxton-Hicks that evening, so I couldn't quite go all out, but Danny and I did make it on the floor for two songs. It made Danny nervous...he kept saying he didn't want my water to break on the dance floor...and so here comes my first sign of anticipation.
The next day, I was super paranoid about my water breaking. Why would I be paranoid?! That is a totally normal thing. Well I was paranoid because all I was experience was some leaking (sorry for the over-share), but I was convinced that it had to be some leaking of amniotic fluid. I was able to let it go since it really wasn't much fluid, and there are lots of other things going on down there, but then the next day (Monday), it seemed like every time I used the restroom, I was very...well...it almost seemed like I had peed my pants. Again, sorry for the over-share. So Danny and I decided that it was better to be safe than sorry, and I made an appointment to see our midwife (even though I had an appointment scheduled for the next day).
I love our midwives. They are really great. But there is one thing I don't like; their practice is a part of this larger company called Goodman and Partridge. I do not like Goodman and Partridge for a number of reasons. Anyway, when you want to schedule and appointment, you call on big call center for all the different G&P practices and speak to someone there. It is rather impersonal. In this case, I had to tell her why I wanted to change my appointment even though I had one the next day. When I told her I wanted to make sure I wasn't leaking fluid, she tried to transfer me to triage (another call center where I would talk to a nurse). I asked her to please not do that, as I really just wanted to see a midwife. She told me that triage would tell me to go into the hospital. This freaked me out. But all was fine and I scheduled an appointment for later that afternoon. Then I went to the front desk of the school to let them know that I was going to be leaving and would potentially need a substitute for my 5th period class. I thought I would be back in time, but just in case I was late, they should get someone. To which the sweet well-meaning secretary said, "Unless they send you to the hospital."
Tears, people. Lots and lots of tears. It wasn't so much going to the hospital as it was that I wasn't in control. If I was leaking fluid, then I needed to go and it would be the best for our girl, but it wasn't what I had planned in my mind. I didn't want to go. I didn't have my hospital bag. I didn't want to be induced. I just didn't want to go. I called Danny at work and he calmed me down. Anyway, my appointment was good. Baby is healthy and happy and snug as a bug. No leaking, no developments. Looks like she'll be in there for a little while longer. But we did find out that our sweet girl is in the posterior position.
Enter new fear: oh no! What if she doesn't flip over and I have to have a different birth than the one I planned for (that being the totally unmedicated, natural birth). Again, I have to realize that I am not in control.
It is this weird phenomenon. It is my body, after all. But it isn't. It is Annabelle's body. Connected to mine, but all hers. She gets to decide when and how she'll arrive in this world, and I just have to wait to see how she goes about it. Yes, I have a plan and I am prepared. By no means do I want to throw that plan out the window, but I have to be willing to let go and let God (as the great saying goes). He has a plan for her: for her birth, for her whole life. And I, as her mother, have to already begin to let go and trust that God has the perfect plan. I am not in control, and that is really probably a good thing, but it is a hard lesson to learn.
Please pray for me in these last few days or weeks (whichever she decides), and while your at it, pray that she does a little flip-a-roo to anterior. It would make it a lot easier on the both of us!
Also, if you have any positive birth stories about birthing a posterior baby naturally, I would love to hear em!