April 24th… my hopes

Today has a pretty date to it. It’s also Arbor Day, and if I had more time and energy, I would have planned some fun tree activities with the homeschoolin’ tot this week. Oh well… I let him make cookies instead

So my acupuncture session today was interesting. It takes place in a community setting, in a room of recliners, low lights, music, etc. A licensed acupuncturist and certified nurse midwife runs the clinic and performs the services. You are able to fall asleep if you want to, take your time with the needles in you until you feel “refreshed” and finished with them.

I, however, could not sit still for 25 minutes. Some of the points created a dull ache, some I didn’t feel at all, and some were downright painful. The reclined position caused my slightly right posterior baby to have all her weight and spine on the lower right side of my back, an area that has been sore and throbbing for nearly 2 months now because of her favorite position. I tried to relax but I wasn’t able to move my body at all without triggering one of the needles which were in my forhead, ears, shoulders, forearms, hands, belly, calves and feet. So I couldn’t shift my hips or lean forward to release that pressure, and the feeling of just lying there helpless was frustrating and emotional. Then I felt frustrated at myself for not being able to sit there for very long, and then frustrated at myself for being frustrated because that was blocking all my relaxing juju. It was kinda a mess, honestly.

The acupuncturist could tell, too. She talked with me after I asked her to remove the needles, suggested some things to turn the baby (she goes back and forth but she favors posterior), and gave me some seed tape things on two points in my ears that she said were on the points of the endocrine gland and uterine muscles to balance and bring on a hormonal shift. The prescription is to press them firmly for several minutes every waking hour. I go back on Monday afternoon to try again, if I’m still pregnant then.

I must admit, I don’t like that I have such a hard time getting out of my own way, particularly sitting still. I try so hard, yet its the trying that keeps things from moving, even when I’m “trying” to stop trying! lol

I noticed that after one hour away from the noise of my life (hence, the toddler), I was especially sensitive to (annoyed and irritated by) his constant stream of conversation, noises and arguing when I got back in the same car as him. It was like I had stepped away from my stress level for a brief second, just long enough to realize just how HIGHHHHHHH it is! The first thought that passed through my mind was like that of a bystander to my own life, and I thought, baffled, “My god – is that what I DO from dawn til dusk?!?!”

Anyway, I know this is kinda just me rambling, introspecting a bit – which may or may not be a good thing but it is what it is.

I feel the need to explain my anxiety over being overdue a bit, as well:

Earlier this week, I had my first “overdue” midwife appointment, and the well-meaning and non-threatening words that passed her lips, namely: “schedule your birth”, caught me. They just caught me. It’s taken me a few days to pinpoint it but that’s where it really got started.

In many countries, 42 weeks pregnant is the first time they even mention intervening in any way. In America, however, things are very different. Even with midwives, there is a concern over late term pregnancies and a general sense that a Pitocin induction is medically necessary once that 42 week mark has hit.

Now might be the time that the average overdue lady might say, Hey, I’m not 42 weeks for another 12 days, so I’m all good. Why worry now? Cross that bridge when I come to it!

And I suspect I’d be saying the same thing myself, if it weren’t for the fact that with my only other labor – I came to that bridge. I kept thinking “any day now”, but in the end, I was running a fever and the hospital midwives persuaded me into Pitocin, something I’d not even thought of because of my all natural hopes and dreams.

Most of you know, I labored on Pit (which makes things very difficult) and gave birth to my 8 lb 7 oz boy 12 hours later, with not one ounce of pain relief (unless you count my wonderful support team! LOVE you guys!)

You might say it was a pretty triumphant story. But it was intense, ya’ll. I hate that drug like I hate the debul. And I hate hospital restrictions, interventions, birthing rooms and 3 day stays almost just as much.

So here I am again, passed due. With “plenty” of time – and yet. You can’t talk to some one about the slim chance that their plane will crash when they fly when they were in a plane crash 3 years ago. For them, the chances are more real. The fear that destiny will throw them an oddball again is more prominent.

On top of the concerns I have over my previous experience of a hospital induced labor due to late term pregnancy, there are many other layers to my disdain about that option. First of all, I will owe my midwife/clinic for their fees, which I have already managed to raise and pay them 2/3rds of, regardless of how the birth goes and whether or not I will even birth with them (if in a hospital, I will not – I suppose I will birth with whatever doctor I “get”). I will then owe the hospital and staff another roughly 3 grand out of pocket (IF I have a normal vaginal delivery) in insurance deductibles and so on. This would be so hard for us to deal with- it’s difficult to even THINK about.

So yes, babies come when they are ready. Your body knows when your “real” due date is –

MOST of the time. But sometimes, babies don’t come when they should. Sometimes, the labor is stalled for too long, and medical intervention becomes a necessary reality. The placenta is done with it’s job, the water is filled with old merconium, or an infection sets in. These things do happen.

This knowledge, especially the first hand experience of Ethan’s labor, is why this week has been hard for me. Each morning that I wake up still totally pregnant, and every evening that I go to bed with stopped labor pains, etc, I feel myself sinking one day closer to the eventual marker that sets me into some high risk category where everything I have prayed for with this labor experience gets dashed. I want to “let” my body do what it’s going to do, when it’s going to do it, but can’t deny the fact that in some cases, the body DOESN’T.

So the best I can do, I think, for now, is continue to pray, to ask for prayer about my anxiety and body and rest, and then to stay involved in the lives and stories of those around me so I am not so consumed with my own story.

So, of course, I will cross the bridge when I come to it — but making the hike up to a bridge you do NOT want to cross is disheartening. So I do hope she comes soon. I do hope she comes gently, in the comfort of my home, with my sweet husband there to catch her and be the first to touch her.

I do hope…