Wednesday, February 1, 2012

The post wherein I whine.

Quick! Anyone want to hear the topic of my emotional breakdown yesterday?

So basically, it all boils down to one point. I want to have a baby (good thing, huh?) and it turns out that at this point I don't get one of those without HAVING A BABY.


Here are my options: stay pregnant. This option sucks. I dream about what it used to be like to walk without thinking about walking. What wonderful ignorance! I used to race around the Emergency Room at work thinking about easy things like what needed to be done next, or possibly what would make someone want to sport a scrub top while wearing khakis and a belt (seems like an strange fashion choice to me, but oddly popular among the male physician sort) without any consideration for my ability to stride along. These days, I don't race anywhere. I sort of-- lumber, I guess. I lumber around the ER, and this is the new commentary in my head: "ow. ow. ow. ow." Oh, and the occasional "make another pregnancy joke at my expense and--pelvic pain or not--I swear I'll manage to balance long enough to kick you solidly in the shins."

For example, sometime last week I slowly and painfully made my way from one end of our 70+ bed ER to the other to provide a patient with some substance abuse resources. Right about the time I'm asking about the patient's withdrawal history, his friend glances up and notices, apparently for the first time, that the girl standing across the bed from him with the list of methadone clinics is visibly pregnant. I presume he felt his next comment was brimming with such incredible genius, so hilarious in its originality, that he simply could not possibly be bothered to wait until the end of my conversation, or, for that matter, the end of the sentence I was in the middle of before interjecting.

"Wow," he said, flatly. "It's a good thing you already work, you know, in a hospital or whatever. Just in case, you know, something, uh, accidentally falls out of there." Gestures helpfully at my swollen abdomen as if waiting for response.

Blink. Blink blink.

So that's option one, and it includes a million trips to the bathroom and lack of bladder control and exhaustion and pain.

Option two is have a baby.

Don't get me wrong. There's clearly a major upside here. Also, I presume it does become the only physically possible option at some point in the future, but let's ignore that for a minute the way I did during my emotional breakdown yesterday.

Having a baby requires pushing that baby out. And then dealing with the physical aftermath of pushing that baby out. And then there's no sleep for what seems like the foreseeable future and discomfort of innumerable types and bodily locations. Plus I have a two year old this go-round who I fear is quite smart enough to get in all kinds of trouble while I am caring for the wee one.

So at this point I'm faced with the following two scenarios.

1: Pain and exhaustion.
2: Pain and exhaustion.

This is the part where you remind me of the delicious way a new baby smells, with a little bald head nestled under my chin. (Or hairy head. I'm open to that, too.) Little tiny feet and fingers and round soft little cheeks all connected to those warm little bodies. Can someone just remind me of that part? Because right now I'm caught between the horrors of maternity waist bands and postpartum mesh underwear, and I can't decide which is worse.


katelinklug said...

:) I think option two is the best option! It seems like it's going to be so hard, but I'm here to tell you that it isn't near as hard as I thought it was going to be, PROMISE!

Katie and Chad Metz said...

You have no idea how long I've been dreading the time when I actually will have TWO children to take care of. (Since that little pee stick read "positive") I am super nervous and know exactly what you are going through. Just remember that newborns sleep ALL THE TIME. And that millions of mothers have done it before (and survived). I think our chances of success are good.

Angelina said...

I remember feeling that same way before Cortland was born. From my experience, EVERYTHING is easier the second time. And I mean everything. From taking care of the baby to the healing. I promise it's worth it. I would take option two. Get that baby out! :)

colette said...

I concur with everything the others have said. You will be amazed at how much the little one sleeps. And while he sleeps you get to watch him and hear all those contented baby sighs. And your heart will melt all over the place when your little girl holds him, and loves him, and SAYS she loves him, and says his name, and helps give him a bath, and covers him with her favorite blanket (at which point you freak out because you think she's going to smother him when you're not looking), and a million other moments the THREE of you will share. I suppose Pat can be there, too. The FOUR of you. You can do it, and you'll love it.

Jessica said...

You are clearly amazing so you totally got this. Think of the awesome drugs to get in the pushing-baby-out part. And once he is here, you will somehow adjust (we all do) and it will be perfect.