Ok, folks. The excitement has worn off. We are stuck in a cabin in Middle Tennessee, in the middle of January, with the craziest weather I’ve ever seen – 60 degrees one day, 35 the next, with thunderstorms and tornado watches in the middle of the night in between. I miss my house, my bed, my dog, my neighbors, my routine, my pretty things, my polite and kind local Maryvillians. Whine whine whine. I am SO OVER IT.
In terms of how I am feeling physically, I’m pretty good for a 40-something week pregnant person (depending on who you ask – 15th Nichols due date by LMP, 20th by Harvard dates, 22nd by 18 week ultrasound). I have a little pubic symphysis dysfunction, but nothing compared to some other mamas I’ve known. I have some sciatic pain, but it’s not the worst I’ve ever had. My feet have just started swelling in the last couple of days, and I’m drinking hops tea to keep that to a manageable level. I don’t feel horribly exhausted. I’m going on long walks most days, which is kind of hard on my hips/pelvis, but I still have pretty good mobility considering how huge my belly is and can manage to stretch most of that out. My biggest complaint is the excema around my eyes caused by mold in the air from the mild winter and moldy leaves in the woods surrounding our cabin. Very frustrating. I just (vainly) keep thinking about the pictures that will be taken during my labor, with big red patches all around my eyes. Nice. But that seems to be getting better with Burt's Bees Eye Cream, thankfully.
Emotionally/spiritually, this is so freaking hard. Plan A was to come out here around the 17th. Plan B became the 10th or 11th with Sherry arriving on the 17th and leaving the 30th. Plan C, when I started having cramping and bloody show, our departure date became OH MY GOD GET YOUR ASSES TO THE FARM NOW, which meant the 5th, with Sherry moving her arrival date to the 10th and leaving on the 23rd. Which would be tomorrow. All of this going on while I’m trying to relax and feel comfortable and safe to go into labor. Uh huh. Uncertainty and its required flexibility is not my forte, people. Not. My. Forte. We now have Sherry extending her stay by ?? days, and a backup on deck to replace her should she have to leave before the baby gets here and we need a ‘Zoe doula’ for the birth.
I got here and was 70% effaced, but the baby was waaaaay high up. Now, we are -3 or -4 station (better), and “really, really squishy.” In other words, some progress but not much. In two and a half weeks. But, this is fine! Because those multip mamas, they could have nothing at all going on and then ALL OF A SUDDEN everything happens at once and in 6 hours we have a baby! Or, I could be pregnant for another 2 weeks, but my midwife wouldn’t be pressuring me to get the baby out or anything. Which, 5 years ago would’ve been so relieving. This time? Not so much. But thanks anyway!
Every time I think about doing something more drastic to move things along (Labor Tincture, castor oil, and the like) the words “gentle birth” come into my head, and those things just seem like really crappy ideas. So, here we are. Waiting. Each week, another $400 paid for our (sweet, cozy, little) cabin in the woods, and another $100 for Zoe’s trips to half-day school on the Farm so that we can all remain sane, and another chunk of money on just getting out to the book store, a mall, dinner, the grocery store for the sake of getting out so that – again- we can all remain sane.
Good job reading all the way to here! You have a high tolerance for whining!! Here’s where it gets philosophical and new agey. Ready?
You see, the last trimester of each of these pregnancies - Zoe's and this little one's - is all about Opening for me. It seems the hardest part is prior to the start of actual labor.
It has, historically, been relatively easy for me to open once labor starts. Looking back now, I did really labor quite gracefully with Zoe – managing transition (usually the hardest part of labor, where women can start pleading for help, losing all composure, or thinking they can’t do it anymore) during the car ride to the hospital and during the first few get-everything-set-up-and-in-order hours in the hospital with relative ease, and I was fully dilated in just 11 hours from the start of my labor. For a first-timer, that’s pretty quick.
This time, my last trimester of pregnancy has been frought with openness! I have not been able to protect myself appropriately from other people’s energies or actions. Things that would normally roll off, or I would be able to handle with some grace, have been extremely difficult and have had severe effects on me. It has been extremely stressful, maddening, and sad for me all at the same time. So, I guess that’s why even the most clean, healthy family relationships feel a little unsafe. First, because they are so deep and wide, and often without the normal boundaries that you might have with, say, a spouse or a good friend. But also because those relationships are the ones that I want to protect. Kind of like when I was younger and wouldn’t let anyone carry my flute around but me. God forbid anything happen to it, or my relationship with that person might be severely damaged.
So, apparently all the openness over the last three months dictates that I need to completely lose my shit, or as my midwife calls it, ‘release,’ before my body is ready for the complete openness of birthing. And in order to do that, I need to feel safe to do it. And in order to feel safe, I need to have people I consider ‘safe’ around me, and I need to feel like I am also in a safe place that can handle that aforementioned losing of my ever-loving mind from time to time. Because, wow. When I lose my shit, it can be really scary.
People have been traveling to The Farm from all over the world for decades, seeking spiritual enlightenment and cultivating a place of soul and wisdom to hold them during that search. In reading Voices from the Farm, I have learned that the community of people that formed this place were not the sexually indiscriminate, druggie-type hippies that some might think they were. They were a religious community, seeking out a place where they could practice their ideals of communal living while holding themselves and each other responsible for themselves and their actions, compassionately and with intention.
Where I had the Old Soul 'container' of San Francisco last pregnancy with Zoe, along with some wide and deep non-familial wise-women-friend relationships to encourage me to keep my 'peace bubble' around myself during this last hard part for me, this time I intuitively sought out The Farm and felt it necessary to include only my husband, daughter, and my best friend in the journey. We are waiting together, everyone doing their best to stand up for me and help me through this. Some days are filled with sobbing misery, and others are pretty good and happy. We're just taking it day by day, doing the best we can, and praying this baby comes soon.
So that's how I am. Still no baby. Hanging in there. Hoping for no more tornado warnings, and gentler days ahead.
UPDATE: SherrySherry is staying until this baby arrives. Yayayay!
And now some pictures for your viewing pleasure....
Scotty's been cooking for us. I'm SO blessed to have a husband who likes too cook - and is good at it! Behold: Eggs Benedict...
Birth pool in a box:
Big Sister after making chocolate chip cookies with Dad:
Me:
Our family:
Thanks for sharing with us, Shelby. I have been thinking about you all day before I saw this. Hang in there, girl! Sending lots of love and warm thoughts (with steady movement!) to all of you. xoxoxoxo
P.S. Wow Zoe is so grown up!
Posted by: danielle | January 23, 2012 at 10:24 PM
Shelby, I am so happy for you and the choices you made/are making! I can't wait to meet the new little one!
Posted by: Rachel @ day2day joys | January 26, 2012 at 09:49 PM