I'm not sure if this is the case for all moms out there, but it really seems like this pregnancy (my second) is flying by ever since I finished up all the first semester morning sickness blahs. Many times throughout this pregnancy I have been asked (either by medical personnel or a family member of friend) how far along I am and my answer usually goes something like, "Umm... I think I'm XX weeks (or months) along... err.... I mean X weeks (months)... I think..."
For the record, I believe I am 29 weeks along. I think.
I guess my point here is that I have had so much on my mind these 20something weeks-- fueled by stress and the distraction of constantly chasing an active toddler around, that the second time around I need to remind myself to stop and enjoy the moment of being pregnant. Baby kicks all the time (an indicator that this baby will be even more active than my adventurous toddler?) and especially with all the emotional stress and heartbreak as of lately, it is a beautiful reminder of the significance of what I am capable of right now.
A lot of crucial factors are changing now that I am going to be doing this "alone" for sure. I do not plan to have my (soon- to-be-ex-) husband in the delivery room (let alone the hospital) this time around. I'm not sure who will be there with me as my stand-in (support) "partner." Most would probably say their mothers, but my mom (though a retired neo-natal nurse) is not exactly someone I would consider an ideal support here, I mean she's kind of a hard-ass. Husband was lousy in countless ways, but this was one of his few good qualities--being supportive in the actual labor.
But just as I type out that sentence, somewhere in my brain I almost begin to miss him just a bit, I suddenly remember how, just two days later after giving birth, him scolding me after the discharge nurse left the room, because, oh silly-sleep-deprived me "didn't even make any sort of eye contact as the nurse explained things, which was embarrassing and she definitely noticed your immature behavior" And then just like that, I've snapped back into reality and I know that despite the uncertainty and change, this time around will be so much more because I am alone. And that will be just fine.
This delivery will be so much different than the delivery of my daughter in so many ways. In my mind I've already set up a few "defense mechanisms" to protect me from the inevitable sadness of delivering alone this time. Different hospital, different doctor than my first delivery. In all likelihood, due to a few reasons, I will be having a scheduled C-section as opposed to the vaginal delivery I had with my first (he wasn't ok with this, but now it doesn't matter.) Even if my doctor wasn't ok with this, I think I would be pushing for it anyway. I can accept the fact that I am now a single mom and there were some real f--ed up circumstances that have blasted me into this trajectory, I can accept that he has made those terrible choices that will prevent him from being a full part of our lives ever again, but I'm not sure that I will be able to accept the pain (no matter how much strong-willed thinking I conjure) of actually being partner-less on that delivery day when the other supportive husbands are holding their partners' hands... when that final push is made... As I said, defense mechanisms must be put into place. So perhaps I will be asking my good friend with an awesome sense of humor if she would do me the honor of accompanying me in the OR on the day with a camera. I'll need pictures after all. And a few darn good laughs.
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