So, I’m in my third trimester already. That came up out of nowhere. What’s worse is that my friend had to point it out to me. I’m always a stickler for monitoring time, but somehow, this pregnancy has made me more lax in this department. Of course I couldn’t wait for the first trimester to pass as quickly as possible – I tracked each day and week obsessively, longingly waiting to enter the “safe zone.” But after reaching that milestone and then the 20-week appointment where we found out Roo’s healthy and a boy, I’ve become less aware of how quickly my pregnancy is progressing and how soon our son will be here. Eek!
On the one hand, I’m so eager to meet him. I’m already in love with this little boy, and I don’t even know him yet. As much as I dread the labor and delivery portion of his debut, I look forward to getting him out and bringing him home. Putting his nursery together (Arthur’s made so much progress!) has me that much more excited about his arrival. I cannot wait for our feedings times in the cozy glider and ottoman, and I’ve already fantasized about the long walks we’ll take with Finn alongside the stroller. Imagining the first time I make Roo smile has me giddy with anticipation.
On the other hand, I wouldn’t mind for time to slow down just a bit. Registering for the hospital has put me in a panic – I know I have to go through it, but reading about labor and delivery has driven me to tears, so I can only imagine how much worse I’ll be when I’m living it. My close friend recently had her daughter, and the first thing she texted me when she was in active labor was, “Get drugs.” Signing up for the baby classes also reminds me of how much I don’t know and how little I am prepared in certain areas (although hopefully the courses will bring me one step closer to being somewhat qualified to bring Roo home).
Then there are the paper forms of the hospital registration that cripple me with the most fear: the living will and power of attorney forms. Pondering my mortality is something that revs my anxiety unlike any other, but thinking about what would happen to Arthur and Roo if I weren’t to survive labor and delivery? No thank you! My thoughts range from the rational –
- Women have been doing this for eons, and many do it more than once, so how bad can it really be?
- Medicine has come a long way, and the chances of me dying during childbirth are slim – right?
To the irrational –
- The pain is going to be so unbearable that I’ll freeze mid-labor and be worthless to my baby.
- I only have one trimester left to live, so I better get my ducks in a row now.
My mind can be a pretty scary place when I revert to my usual, anti-procrastinator self. I thought pregnancy would kick this type of thinking into high gear, but fortunately, it mellowed me out (mostly). Ignorance is bliss worked for the second trimester, but for the third and final one, I need to strike a balance that keeps me informed but not overwhelmed. Repeating the rational thoughts to myself helps, and I hope our upcoming baby classes ease the anxiety too. Besides, I can only prepare so much; as my OB/GYN reminded me, a lot of this needs to be handled as it comes.
So ready or not, our baby is on his way! Let’s hope there’s a learning curve…