I Hope You Dance

Ok, I realise that the above may reveal a little more about me than I might wish. I would therefore like to justify my choice by saying two things. I am not a fan of country music,(I find it one of the more self indulgent types of music and therefore a little hard to stomach, though I do love the titles of the songs (‘If You Leave Can I Come To?’ and ‘You Ran Away With My Best Friend And I Sure Do Miss Him’) and I admit to having a soft spot for ‘Sweet Home Alabama’). Secondly, it was a little text reminder from a good friend in the UK that reminded me of this particular song and why I had apparently played it “over and over” during a very difficult time in my life. The friend in question is about to get married and I can’t be there as I’m due the same day as her wedding! She intends to walk down the aisle to this song and I think, given everything she’s been through to get to this place in her life, it is wonderfully appropriate. So there you go. Justification over.

Ahem.

In other news, the bump has dropped. I have another eight weeks to go and apparently the bump dropping has given people carte blanche to comment constantly about how low it is. I literally couldn’t get away from one woman who insisted on commenting (with horror) on how low my belly is and how high she carried her son until the week of the birth…and then I got a play by play of how big he was and how small her pelvis was and how it ended in a caesarian…yadda yadda yadda. Why do people do that? I mean, I get that they think that it’s forming a connection and that maybe it’s interesting to share birth horror stories with pregnant women (thanks) but many of these comments are tainted with a kind of obnoxious attention. As if by comparing themselves to me and coming off more favourably, it makes them better people, their choices better or their experiences better. It pisses me off a bit to be honest. *sigh* I think that given how complicated life often is and how tiring being pregnant is, we should be left alone to enjoy (or not) our individual experiences of pregnancy without people feeling it’s their solemn duty to point out anomalies, imperfections or share unbidden their most intimate birthing experiences with us. Is that too much to ask for?

On top of all of that I have been feeling a bit wibbly in general. This pregnancy has rushed by with unseemly haste and I am now standing on the threshold of the next birth/death gateway with my new bubby. I am aware that I have dropped early. I am also aware that I may not get to enjoy the fullness of the next eight weeks because it could happen at any time. And I. Am. Not. Ready. Not even close. I meant to do so many things differently this pregnancy. I did. I meant to meditate regularly and do pre-natal yoga. I haven’t. I guess I’m learning to accept that this is just the way I am but it’s not going to help me when D-Day arrives, is it? The pelvic instability thing has worsened and the back ache has deepened, which has meant that my mobility has been compromised and the nature of the instability means that the yoga poses that I am most drawn to, are the ones which would make the instability worse. *sigh 2* I feel trapped in a large body that is becoming less workable and comfortable by the day. Add to that the fear that I might go into labour early and have a premmie baby with all the intervention that will bring about, and you have one nervous mamma.

The baby’s got hiccups. It’s very cute.

Anyway, I don’t want to rant on. I am not in a very calm or centred place right now. I am slightly unnerved by the swiftness with which everything is moving and how unprepared I am for everything that is to come, despite my best efforts. I’m about to start working with my doula this week and that gives me some hope that we can get to a place of, if not peace, then relative calm before the upcoming birth. I am also due to do my Calmbirthing classes this weekend, so at least there will be one new tool in my birthing repertoire this time.

I sound panicked don’t I.

I just want this birth to be a good experience for me and the baby and I know how badly things can go wrong. I’m trying to focus on the things that will help me to bring about a better birth but I guess it’s natural for the fears to come up first, to have some attention given to them, before they pass away. At least that is what I am hoping.

More later.

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2 thoughts on “I Hope You Dance

  1. Hmm, I can hear the sound of somebody listening to her What-if demon. Surely it will come when it comes and you will be a fabulous mum.And there will be oxytocin that is a calming love drug that your very own body will give you. Are you ever ready for a new baby? Let it be and stop listening to the what-ifs, they have no intention of doing anything except winding you up. Sorry you have less mobility, tho' on the bright side, you are becoming great at sighing! Be well o Mum-awaiting.

  2. Hello wibbly one. Not carrying the bump myself, I am free to feel most excited about the big drop. I can't wait to see you, and touch the majesty that sounds like it's getting more majestic by the second!God yes, how women like to share their birth horror stories with great glee. Not helpful, and when you're obviously feeling exposed and freaked out, it's especially not helpful to feel like such neon- flashing public property I'm sure. Though I can't help but think that most of those women are proud of getting through that big crossroads, and that as a member of Mumma club (in this age of near-zero recognition and honouring of the transition) stories that are more gruesome and negative gain some bizarre kind of credence in the hierarchy. Behold my battle scars! Similarly there are the braggers at the other end of the spectrum "mine was 3 hours and when I coughed she slithered out…and I had an orgasm" women.Mostly though, a belly like yours will inspire great wonder and interest. As it should. A new sacred life. Bit of a tiring minefield, though, I imagine. *sighing with you* I can imagine wanting to hide in a cave for 9 months when my turn comes. The speculation and interrogations are at fever pitch already, and I'm not even duffed yet! It feels a bit like I'm considered a traitor to my sex, species (and PM Rudd) to not have been with child the minute the ring was on the finger. I like the song. Mainly because I can see how it would resonate with you. You've always 'danced' m'love. It's one of the reasons I love you so. xx

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