I’m sitting in the front seat of my car, with a sleeping Mr. P in the backseat. I’m parked outside our moms group half hoping he wakes up so I can go inside. Half relieved he is sleeping in the carseat. It took an hour of driving but finally, at long last those droopy overtired eyes closed. It’s quite possible we will miss the entire group but the act of getting here at least feels like something.
I am guessing they are inside sharing birth stories. We started last week and did not finish. I hadn’t shared yet, and honestly was getting anxious about sharing. I think in some ways I am still processing the birth and the days following. Maybe this is the perfect time to try to share. With the focus of an iPhone timer ticking, the closeness and peace of my sleeping angel sleeping and the force to be succinct since I am typing with one very determined finger.
Baby bee, which we started calling him at our very first OB visit, before we knew anything except that yes, in fact we were pregnant and there was a little human with a beating heart whose shape on the sonogram looked remarkably like a bumble bee, had a much anticipated due date of September 4. It was a Tuesday.
Well, September 4th arrived and I had an appointment at the OB. She wanted to schedule an induction. “Just get one on the books” she advised. It seemed harmless enough in her eyes, but in mine I was in shock. I so wanted a natural birth and an induction was not in my birth plan by any stretch of the imagination. This very quickly became the first parenting decision Bob and I made. We said no. Our OB scheduled a follow-up for a few days later and here begins the run around of doc recommending we schedule an induction and us saying no.
“As long as mom and baby are healthy” was our mantra. We stuck to our newly formed parenting guns day in and day out. During this time, the OB scheduled regular ultrasounds and fetal heart monitoring tests so we could be sure mom and baby were still okay. Each time we were fine, more than fine. So we persisted. And meanwhile, we perspired, too. Did I mention it was a Los Angeles heat wave? As my body and belly grew days beyond the due date, so did my resolve to do everything in my power and everything in my faith and optimism that I could to get this baby to come naturally. I climbed stairs and hills daily. I walked for miles and miles. I took evening primrose oil and drank the special tea that my doula recommended exactly when I was supposed to. I visualized my happy healthy baby. I visualized labor starting. I napped, I rested, I pumped the two window unit air conditioners a d the trusty fan to attempt to cool down our stuffy condo that was easily ten degrees hotter inside than it was outside. I even watched the entire series of Breaking Bad. Still, no signs of labor. And always, by my side, my trusty sidekick and parenting partner, Bob.
During all this time, my parents were here from the east coast. My brother had flown in from Hawaii and stayed a whole week. No nephew just yet, Uncle Mike. Bob’s parents, understandably, we’re chomping at the bit to hop on a flight. We were all holding our collective breaths. But this baby, who I now know and love as my dear sweet angelbaby wildman Mr. P wanted nothing to do with all of my plans and nothing to do with his daddy’s plans, he was already asserting his independence and teaching us that in his own time, he would come. But I was not ready for the lesson. Only now am I seeing the lesson.
Tuesday September 11 came and went. As did the 12th, 13th, 14, you get the picture. Finally we arrived at Tuesday September 18th: the day before my 36th birthday, 2 full weeks after the due date. Never in a million years did I think we’d get this far along and still no baby! But alas, here we were. I did my usual Tuesday routine including my prenatal Iyengar yoga class that I’d been going to since 8 weeks pregnant. Here I was, 42 weeks pregnant in yoga class. There was not much PRE left in that PRENATAL but I went nonetheless.
I visualized going into labor. I did not. Bob and I met my parents and sister for an early birthday lunch afterwards at a place in Mar Vista that I’d recently discovered. It was exactly two weeks past the due date and we were entering the point where Bob and I both agreed if it came to this point, we’d go in for the induction. It was set for that night at midnight, just as September 18th rolled into the very beginning of the 19th, my birthday…
TO BE CONTINUED
Darlings! This post had the cards stacked against me: typing on my phone with one finger, almost losing a saved draft, an internet outage and finally sitting on my balcony after 10pm borrowing our neighbors wifi (with permission!!) to finally figure it out and finish up and still I posted. Feeling proud!
Good things, darlings.
This post is day 14 of my 7 day commitment to fully write and post an entry from start to finish within thirty minutes, two sessions of 15 minutes each right in a row using my beloved Flylady timer.