I'm grumpy. Very, very grumpy. It's been extremely hot for days now, a
situation that is unpleasant under normal circumstances but unbearable
in the ninth month of pregnancy. My boy, after making steady progress
towards an early due date, has stopped and decided that he prefers it
indoors. Given the heat outdoors, I can hardly blame him.
I complained to my doctor. She was sympathetic, but pointed out he
wouldn't be considered overdue until October. "It would be
statistically unusual for him to be born this early," she said gently,
"given how normal and healthy your pregnancy has been."
I heard her, but mostly fixated on the impossible, laughable idea of my
boy being born in October. October? October is a million days away
from now. Trees will grow and fall before October. Seasons will come
and go. New mountains will form at the Continent Divide, and it will
only be September 27th. No, I cannot be pregnant until October.
It is astounding how nature fixes it so that the pregnant, first-time
mother reaches a point where she is ready for labor long before labor
actually begins. "Hours of agonizing, crippling pain, the worst pain
I'll feel in my life? But I won't be pregnant afterwards? Sign me up!"
5 comments:
The longing to actually be able to put the baby down, or better yet, let someone else tote him/her around for a while, is very strong. As for the pain, it's not as bad as they make it look in the movies:) Are you going the "natural" route?
My mother, like you, suffered through a miserable two weeks in Washington, D.C. in the later part of August after an idyllic six week stint here in Maine where the temps hovered in the sixties and seventies and sweaters were the norm most mornings. The return to 90ยบ and 100% r.h. that is the Capitol in late summer was a horrendous blow, but she wanted to be on home ground when the baby came, not 150 miles back in the woods by canoe. This was mid-century. The nation was still struggling to recover from World War II. It wasn't very pleasant back then.
No air conditioning, either. It just wasn't common in those days. To add insult to injury, my Aunt Polly had completed her concurrent pregnancy on August 28th with the arrival of Patty, my most favorite cousin in the whole world. Polly and my mother had been comparing notes with each other all year as it was Polly's third and Mother's first. In utter disgust with the state of affairs, she accepted an invite to a party at the Watergate Hotel. Seems she got drunk. Very drunk. Admiral Brubaker held her from falling over the parapet while she puked drunk. My father was aboard another admiral's yacht at the time and it was overdue, hence the rear guard action by the brass.
I appeared early the next morning, hung over and traumatized for life ... I've never been able to pass a bottle of booze without a little nip. All of this took place fifty-four years ago yesterday. So I can relate, a little, to what you must be feeling. And if my mother were around, her comment would be something along the lines of "You go, girl!"
Best of luck to you all.
wil
So much for my soothsayer prediction of last Saturday.
FWIW, I thought of you while watching the weather channel in Georgia over the weekend (tracking Frances) and noting the ridiculous heat in Silly Valley. I now officially alter my prediction to next Saturday.
Did you try the ice/window/zen thing?
Best Wishes! Our thoughts are with you.
Go to lots of movies... it's air-conditioned and you can sit down. Or, you can get your husband to fan you and feed you peeled grapes.
And don't forget to save this blog post so you can guilt trip your son when he's old enough to read. :)
Thanks, everybody, for the good wishes! I did use the ice/fan/window trick, and it provided some relief. Thankfully the temperature is dropping.
No baby yet...
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