Yesterday was Mother’s Day, and I informed your dad several times over the last few months that I considered myself a mother, and that he was expected to celebrate me to the fullest extent on this special day.
He came through and bought me a couple of baby photo albums for you, and did several chores throughout the day. The photo albums are great, as I have been wanting some for quite a while now. However, next year I will be politely reminding your dad that his gifts to me on mother’s day need to be mother-centric, not baby-centric. Your gift to me however can be baby-centric, so you should probably start thinking about what you’re going to get me in 2014.
Don’t tell your dad this (as what I’m about to say is completely contrary to every point I argued as to why I should be celebrated on Mother’s Day this year) but the truth is that I don’t really feel like a mom yet. Everything I do for you still seems theoretical somehow. We are accumulating all sorts of things for your nursery, wardrobe and general survival, yet I’m not sure my brain has quite registered yet that this is for a real, live actual baby that will be here in roughly six weeks.
I feel you kick and squirm and wiggle your feet constantly, and while logically I know that it’s a baby in there, it’s difficult for me to emotionally process that you are real and that what I’m feeling is you…and that you are mine.
It’s surreal to me that you are so close that I can actually reposition your knee in my belly when it presses against my intestines, but that you still may as well be a million miles away. Despite our intimate proximity to one another (you reside inside of me for crying out loud), I have never held your body or touched your face or looked into your eyes. I don’t know what you look like or sound like or smell like. You are a person who will very soon have a favorite color, and a favorite animal, and a favorite food, and a favorite friend…all of which I will be more familiar with than the back of my own hand. Yet as of right now I know none of those things about you. You still feel very much like a mere idea in my mind’s eye, rather than an actual boy—who is my son.
But then sometimes I wonder if I’m more of a mom than I give myself credit for. Perhaps we are so inextricably intertwined with one another that I forget to notice just how much I really do know you, and how much of a mom I really am.
I know that you get the hiccups about three minutes after I drink something. I know that you are sensitive to sugar. I know that you are intrigued with my bladder because you sucker punch it all the time. I know that you like little foot rubs occasionally, and that you like to stretch out your leg—just like I do when I sleep.
And then there are the things that I don’t know about you, but that I project onto you anyway. I have this notion that you have an eager and compliant personality, just like your dad. I feel this way because you were so easy to get here in the first place, and you’ve been in the head-down position and ready to go for the last eight weeks. I also have this notion that you are easy and laid back, which probably comes from the fact that you have caused me virtually no distress throughout the entire pregnancy. But I also imagine you to be energetic and playful, as evidenced by all of our ultrasounds. From that first sonogram when we saw you literally buzzing with excitement at nine weeks gestation, to that second ultrasound where we saw you do several barrel rolls and flips, to the last ultrasound where we weren’t even able to get all of your measurements because you wouldn’t hold still long enough for the tech to get a clear picture—I interpreted all of that to be indicative of an enthusiastic little guy who would very much like to come out and play.
I guess that what I’m trying to say is that I don’t know you but I also kind of know you. I don’t feel quite like your mom just yet, but I do know that I am your mom. And no matter what, I think we’ll be great friends.
Happy Mother’s Day to me, indeed.
In other news, on Saturday we attended a child birth class. It did have the effect of making everything feel a little bit more real. We learned all about how you intend to get from point A to B, and how I’m basically just supposed to sit back and let all of that happen to me.
There was a lot of discussion about the use of pain medication during labor. I know that some people feel really passionate about not using any intervention whatsoever during the process, whereas other people want to sign up for an epidural two months before their water breaks. For me, personally, I guess I don’t really feel all that strongly one way or another. On the one hand it seems silly to commit to forgoing all that our modern era has to offer medically, just for the sake of doing it the hard way. But on the other hand, there is something a little unappealing about being strapped into bed with an IV drip, catheter, and needles inserted into my spine for an event which should be the most natural thing in the world.
So for me, I guess the plan is to just go with the flow and see what happens, and make my decisions based on whatever makes sense to me at the time. If for whatever reason I feel like I can do the whole thing naturally without help, then I’ll go for it. But if it becomes too painful and I feel like I need some alleviation, I won’t beat myself up for that at all. I’m sure women who go into the whole ordeal with my attitude are exactly the types who end up getting an epidural because they haven’t made the firm commitment otherwise, but like I said—I just don’t care in the long run. I just want to get you here safe and sound with as little drama as possible.
Right now you are 34 weeks along, and so I need you to hang tight for another three weeks to make sure that you are full-term. But once we hit that 37 week mark, feel free to make your move because your nursery should be finished by then, and I’ll be 100% over the whole pregnancy thing. Plus, there are some things at work I wouldn’t mind getting out of earlier than later.
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