(30 weeks pregnant)
So, I had the weirdest dreams last night... I dreamt that I gave birth 9 weeks early, to a GIRL, named Lauren, who was much bigger than a newborn- maybe more like a 4 month old (Despite being 9 weeks early!! Can you imagine if that child-from-my-dream had made it full term?? We'd be looking at "Freakishly Large Baby Born to Northridge Woman" on the cover of the LA Times!) Then, in my dream, I went to my baby shower where I had a really ugly, generic cake that tasted terrible, had a picture of a naked baby on top of it and read, "Can you believe it?" :) WHAT??!! Down Syndrome didn't play a role in the dream and the name Lauren would not have been on my list of names if we had been expecting a girl. Chalk it up to these crazy pregnancy dreams! (I won't go into detail about the weird X rated dreams I was having in my first trimester...or the one where I was a legitimate Victoria Secret model...hee hee..it makes me laugh out loud thinking about it now!!)
In addition to crazy dreaming, I'm also on a daily organizing impulse. Everything seems out of order in my house and everywhere I turn, I have the impulse to tear it all apart and start over. I'm sure it's my control issues...as I get closer to Peanut's birth, I am realizing how little control I have over everything, over anything. And the best I can do is to try and organize my house, I guess. I've also started researching natural childbirth. It looks like I may be too late to take up any type of actual "method", and I really doubt we'll be able to afford a Doula, but I'm feeling that it's going to be especially important for me to do this birth without drugs...if I ever even get that chance, that is. If our little Peanut has odds stacked against him, then it feels more important for me to do whatever little I can do to improve his odds- even if it's just a fraction of an odd. I guess I just feel even more protective this time around. I'm also worried about the doctors having to take Peanut away from me right away to do extensive testing because they know about his diagnosis. I'm praying that things go smoothly and that I can be strong and insistent when I need to be. There are so many interventions and contraptions at hospitals, and the nurses have a good way of scaring you into making decisions you'd rather not. In hindsight of my birth experience with Christian, I was induced with Pitocin and given an epidural prematurely and really didn't need them. Plus, I felt like I was giving birth up-hill. What IS that??!! They try to convince you that these beds decline, but then they put your feet into stirrups that feel like they're at chin level and tell you to push. We need birthing beds like the oil changing stations they have at Jiffy Lube. We can put the doctor on a lower level, like in a hole in the floor, and then the women's beds can be aimed over the doctor. Maybe I'll suggest this in the comment card box after the hospital tour... But, seriously, how am I going to prepare for this?? I wanted to blast "All These Things That I've Done" (I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier)by The Killers while I was giving birth to Christian because it makes me feel a little bad ass. But, hospitals aren't exactly accustomed to blasting music in the labor and delivery rooms and the soft, tin computer version that was playing on Charles' laptop was hardly inspiring the first time around. Maybe a blasting ipod with earphones? Music gives me a lot of determination, which probably goes back to my dancer background. Hmmm...anyone have any good, inspiring recommendations (Think "We are the Champions", The Rocky theme song, "Stronger" by Kanye West, etc.)? Maybe this will be MY method... It probably goes against all of the famous relaxation techniques, but let's face it- there is nothing "relaxing" about labor.
Well, it's late and Christian seems to be waking up with some sort of a cough, so I'm back on Mommy duty.
P.S. We seem to be making headway with the swearing and I've also discovered that regular household and yard chores are extremely fun, fulfilling, and confidence boosting to our 2 and a half year old. Hey... it works for me!