And the pregnancy continues. This means I am now nearly 42 weeks pregnant. It’s been rather tiring the last few weeks, even though physically I am mostly fine. It’s just that I have been waiting for this baby to arrive for the past four weeks, thinking with every twinge, “Is this it? Am I going into labor??” I was so sure the baby would be early, and instead I’m going to have to be induced before the placenta starts to fail and deprive the baby of the nutrients he needs.
The scary part is it’s about to be all over, and I’m not quite sure how I’m going to handle that. Kurt tells me I’ll be fine, Daddy tells me that I’ll make a good mom, everyone tells me that everything will work out. But it’s all completely unknown. I know some of what to expect since I have a brother ten years younger than me, and I provided a good chunk of his care when he was a baby. He was my very own living baby doll, and I just couldn’t resist him. I used to dress him and bathe him and take him for walks and change his diaper and feed him, anything I could do in order to play with him. I’m sure my stepmom didn’t mind since it lessened her burden with him since she was still working full time when he was a baby.
But I’ve never been the optimistic type when it comes to myself, although I usually convince people that things will work out in their favor. I can be optimistic when it comes to other people; I just can rarely see anything positive for myself. I don’t know if it’s the legacy that Dad’s given me since he is the most pessimistic person I know, but I do know it’s a problem for me to be optimistic.
There are just so many mixed emotions roiling around in my brain right now. Don’t get me wrong — I am excited to have a baby. But now it’s so very real, seeing as tomorrow night I go into the hospital to begin the induction process. I should be a mom by Friday at the very latest, and more likely on Thursday. Part of it has to do with Kurt having to go to San Diego only eleven days after the birth of the baby. It’s like every time I need him to be around, the Navy sends him away. I have been extremely lucky that his command has been so considerate of my being pregnant in that he’s not had to go out to sea when they’ve been deployed for a couple of days here and there. Some commands would have told him that he wasn’t issued a wife in boot camp, so basically, tough luck. And I know I’m extremely lucky to be a Navy wife and have him home for the birth. But then again, here I am with my first baby, and almost as soon as he’s born, Kurt’s got to go away for five weeks. I know a lot of women go home to be near their mothers when they give birth so they have some extra help, or their mothers come to visit for a while after the baby’s born. But neither is an option for me.
I know I’ve whined already about being so far away from my family, but I seriously wish I were at least back in southern Virginia so I could just hop in my car and be at Dad’s house in three hours if I really needed it. I know J will be there for me, but I feel badly about that because she has her own family with their own issues. And sometimes she can get a bit overbearing, even with her good intentions.
I guess I’m just scared because I don’t know what to expect. I know I’m a bit of a control freak, but when you have a baby, it’s a total loss of control. You’ve got someone else depending on you now to provide all of his needs. And that worries me. What if I fail somehow?? I know every new parent worries about failing, and all you can do is your best. I just wish this weren’t my first baby so I wouldn’t have all these doubts and concerns. I would already know what to expect, and I would know I can handle it, and I would feel a lot more confident about everything.
I’m also pretty freaked out about giving birth in general. Again, I just don’t know what to expect. Plus I’m not going into labor on my own; I’ll have to be medicated in order to start my labor. That weirds me out a bit because I have never had any kind of procedure or surgery before. I have always been in the best of health (knock on wood), which makes the idea of having to stay in the hospital for a couple of days, at least, is really hard to wrap my brain around. Fortunately, I haven’t had to listen to too many birthing horror stories. If it’s not something positive, I try to steer the conversation in another direction. I don’t need horror stories making my nervousness worse.
But if you don’t hear from me for a while, it’s because I’m still recuperating, and updating my diary will be the last thing on my mind with a new baby to care for. I am going to try to get some photos posted because I know plenty of people want to know at least the rudimentary details of the baby — especially whether I had a girl or a boy! I’ll try to get that online in a timely fashion.
I know I probably will be just fine… I just have to convince myself of that.