Minefield of Emotions
My baby will be here in 48 hours. I’m trying hard to let that fact sink in. But it feels like I’ve been running, walking, limping, crawling on this road to baby for soooo long and sometimes it’s hard to realize that the actual finish line is in sight and it’s not just an illusion or a figment of my imagination or emotional exhaustion. It’s real.
Our baby girl is breech, and we have a scheduled c-section to get her here safely on Thursday. I’m beyond thankful that I get to know when and how she will arrive, and most importantly that we are doing everything we can to keep her safe.
Sure there are things that make me sad – I had spent months preparing myself mentally for a “normal” birth. We took childbirth classes, practiced breathing methods, and I was excited (and scared) to see my body perform during labor and birth. I wanted my husband to stand by my side and see how strong I could be for our child. I wanted her placed on my belly so she could feel my warmth and love right away. Admittedly, it’s tough letting go of those dreams, partly because it seems like that’s how it should be and partly because I spent months imagining her birth that way.
My body and my baby had a different plan. In a way, I’m grateful for the change in plans. My dreamy birth plan got thrown out the window, but I got time to adjust and refocus on what matters most – getting her here safely. Delayed cord clamping, immediate skin to skin contact and feeding are no longer options when before they felt like priorities. This change has helped me to realize again that her being born and healthy is the ONLY priority. And once again life is reminding me that I’m not the one in control, and no amount of planning or dreaming will give me that control. Just when I think I’ve come to terms with giving up the need to control things, life reminds me to look down at my white knuckles and loosen my grip.
I’d been wishing and hoping so hard for a “normal” vaginal birth. I’m still dealing with the emotional scars of the last time I was in the OR with this doctor. I went into surgery and came out with empty arms and a broken heart. Sure, I have faith that this will be a great experience and everything will go smoothly, but the thought of my baby being taken from my womb and whisked away gives me so much anxiety. I’m hopeful things will be smooth and calm, that she will be perfectly healthy, that her daddy will stay right with her and she will never be out of his sight while I’m getting stitched up. I’m hoping that I’ll be sent to recovery quickly and will get to have skin to skin with her as soon as possible and feed her hungry belly.
It’s strange that her birth has become a source of so much stress and anxiety for me. I didn’t see this coming. I have been feeling so confident and happy and this has hit me like a ton of bricks. Perhaps it’s a nerves and hormones bringing out all these emotions in the last few days of pregnancy. But I have a feeling once she’s in my arms, I’ll never want to let her go.