Perpetual State of Flux

Today is my due date.

I am 40 weeks pregnant. Nine months.

I honestly didn’t think I would see this date. I thought she would be here by now.

Every day I wake up wondering if today will be the day that I meet my daughter. Every night I wake up at least 5 times wondering if that was a…

This is exciting and I’m so excited for Georgina and John (whom I don’t know personally but have followed their story from the beginning).  The funny thing is that when I read this and imagine myself when I’ll be in G’s shoes three months from now and I’m struck with both unbelievable excitement and PURE TERROR!!!

When I was interviewing doulas, I told one of the women that I was not creating a birth plan as I didn’t want to set myself up for disappointment when circumstances invariably caused me to deviate from my plan.  As a result, I find myself completely living in each pregnancy moment and daydreaming about life with our baby boy post delivery but the delivery itself is like a snowy television screen. 

This isn’t to say I’m completely ignorant about the process or taking a completely passive role. In fact, I’ve discussed my primary hopes (no induction/pitocin) with both my doctor and my doula, but beyond that I’m doing my best to surrender the process (as lame as that sounds).  I cannot tell you how huge this is for a control freak like myself and for the most part, I’m handling it well.  Then there are the other moments, as both the baby and I continue to grow and I realize that he’s going to have to come out of there one day and then I worry that I’m not going to be strong enough to make it through delivery and that I’ll be completely incompetent when it comes to caring for this tiny fragile baby boy.

And there it is…PURE TERROR!!!