Weak and Powerless

I haven't written much lately because I've been afraid to write about the one thing predominantly on my mind.

I am a control freak. I admit this. Perhaps because there has been so much in my life outside of my realm of control, I have become someone who craves order and organization. I need things to be logical and timely. I need to be able plan and anticipate. I hate surprises (except complete surprises, those are nice. But when I know it's coming, it drives me nuts) and I loathe being caught off guard. Because of this, I'm terrified of labor. I can't think of an adjective that seems to really convey just how scared I am.

There is very little I can plan or even really expect regarding labor. No two people experience the same thing. I could be in labor for 6 hours. I could be there for 36. And there's no way to tell. I could tear or have an episiotomy. Then again, I might not. There is so many variables, and no real way to predict them. This frightens me to death.



Throughout my pregnancy, my midwives and anyone else I talked to about it kept assuring me that I would be ready for it when the time came, that I was not physically ready for it, and so I wasn't emotionally or mentally ready for it. I wanted to believe them. I tried to ignore the fear for a while, to no avail. Then I thought perhaps if I knew more about it, I would feel more prepared. Not so-- it only made it worse, because everything I read made it more and more clear that there was no way for me to know what would happen.

As such, I have not been a nice person lately. I've been anxious and stressed out and worried beyond belief. This has led me to be a total bitch to pretty much everyone around me. I was so afraid that I couldn't seem to think of anything else, and the fact that everyone seemed oblivious to the kind of torment I was feeling. I kept fighting with my brother (but really, he is a great big effing asshole anyway), fighting with Erik, even fighting with my mom. My mom got so angry at me that she said some incredibly horrible things that she had no right to say, but it convinced me to stop dwelling on it and do something about it.

So finally I discussed it with one of the midwives. I made a list of everything I was afraid of, and believe me, it was not a short list. But the main thing came down to the fact that I feared the loss of control. We talked about the kind of options I had, and I told her I wanted a c-section.

I told her that I had been researching it for weeks, and I felt confident that I understood the risks. I also know what to expect. I know what happens when, I know about how long it will last, and I know what to expect while recovering. I understand that it will take longer to recover from, but in the long run I feel like it is worth it.

I was afraid she would tell me that I couldn't do it, that since there was no medical reason for it. She talked to me about the risks and the fact that she wasn't even sure if one of the OB/GYN's they work under would even consider it, but she said she would talk to the doctor and see if he would even consider it. We talked to the doctor and he agreed to do it.

I was so incredibly relieved. I know it's major abdominal surgery, and considering that I have never been in the hospital and the only surgery I've ever had was to remove my wisdom teeth, it's a rather scary thought. But I am so much less worried and afraid about it than I was about the thought of going through labor. Now, the only thing I have to worry about is not going into labor before I'm scheduled for the c-section on the 7th. That likely won't happen, but it's still a possibility.

I know some people may think that I am being selfish for wanting to do this, and that i just need to suck it up and deal with it, but it's my choice. I don't care if you think I'm a terrible person because I feel the need to control everything and the desire to avoid injury to my private parts. It's my decision and I have to live with it. If I'm comfortable with it, then that's all that matters.

--Dragon Read more!

Question?

Why is it that every single pregnancy site tells me that I am feeling huge, clumsy, ugly, blah blah blah? I mean, this pregnancy thing pretty much generally sucks, but I don't particularly feel like any of those things. In fact, one of the few upsides of this whole alien transportation receptacle deal is that I have had virtually no acne (never really had it to begin with, but there was always a pimple or two hanging out somewhere), and now I have an excuse for being rather rotund. The funny thing is, I have only gained about 4 pounds from my initial weight, thanks to the oh-so-lovely experience that is morning sickness. It's not as fun to walk, because it hurts, but other than that I don't feel any more prone to mishaps than normal. So I don't know. Maybe they're talking about all those skinny wenches who freak if they gain 5 lbs. In which case, yeah, they might feel like a (insert large ungainly object here). Considering all the other crap going on, though, I feel like I should get some recognition for what few benefits there are to this whole ordeal. Just something to wonder about.

--Dragon Read more!

Bloop!

Recently I've begun feeling the baby kick. I've been feeling it the last few weeks, actually, but until about this week I wasn't really sure whether it was the baby our just random bubbles in my tummy. Well, I now am pretty certain that it is the baby. And boy, does it feel weird! The only way to describe what it feels like is that it feels like "bloops". They even make that sound when the midwife takes his heartbeat, you can hear him kicking and it like "bloop" "bloo-whoop". :) Yesterday I really really had to go to the restroom, and our roommate and his girlfriend were in the shower. I didn't want to wait another half an hour, so Kire and I went down the street to Safeway, as we needed to get some things from the store anyway. As we were sitting at the stop light, the baby was doing what felt like tae-bo on my bladder while Erik was sitting in the passenger seat fidgeting and shaking the whole car. Finally, I yelled "Stop it, both of you!" It was pretty funny to see the look on Erik's face, because obviously he didn't know who "both of you" was.

The funny thing is, I'm 23 weeks and I still don't wear maternity clothes. It might have to do with the fact that I never seem to have enough money to go out and buy new clothes, but also, other than a few pairs of pants, I don't need them yet. You wouldn't know I was pregnant unless I told you. Also, most of my favorite shirts are in the longer style anyway, so I haven't needed to buy any maternity shirts. I guess that's a good thing, but I wonder how long it will last. Read more!