Wednesday, January 16, 2008

The Power of Dreams

Even though I haven't been through the process yet, I know this whole chilbirth labor thing is definately not for me. I faint when I visit OTHER people in the hospital. I have never seen a full episode of ER- my eyes always find their way into the crux of my elbow. I lose my appetite (even for popcorn!) when I watch CSI. I can't hear about other people's injuries without my gag reflexes kicking in. I can't even read the "labor" chapters of pregnancy books without feeling lightheaded and weak.

I have a weak stomache, to say the least.

Ever since I found out I was pregnant, the one thing that has dominated my every waking moment (even more so than excitement) has been the fear of pain and the expulsion of my own bodily gunk that inevitably follows 9 months of pregnancy. I am even tormented by something as small as being poked by an IV during my stay at the hospital. Under no circumstances do I want to see the umbilical cord or the placenta- shoot me first please. Just give me a clean, unattached baby. Thank you. The thought of being "on display" in front of medical staff, makes me want to shrivel in my own skin. I will have absolutely no visitors! Maybe Husband, if he promises not to look- I don't want him to be scarred too.

I know I sound like a really bad pregnant person and future mom. All the people who talk about the joys of pregnancy and the miracle of life would probably throw stones at me if they knew that it has ALMOST crossed my mind once or twice to pray for a miscarriage. I pray every night for a medical advancement that will allow doctors to turn babies into temporary ghosts so that they might just "float" out of their mom. Ok, maybe compared to prayers from starving Somalia children, my own prayers are not high on God's priority list.

I have to say that recently, I have been less fearful and neurotic. I had a dream this week that I was holding my baby. The eruption of love that I felt for the baby was just overwhelming. I actually "felt" what it was like to be a "mother" in that dream. All I remember was that it was powerful. I felt so blessed that I was the one charged with caring and loving the baby. I felt a strong bond and connection with the baby too. I think what I experienced in the dream resonated with me on a deeper level. Ever since that dream I have been able to overlook the once "terrifying" aspects of pregnancy and birth and have been so anxious and impatient to be able to actually have the baby


CM said...

I was terrified about labor at first too. Hypnobirthing helped me a lot. After going through it, though, I realized that it didn't last long and I knew it would be over soon, so it didn't really matter. You know? Pregnancy can feel like a chronic disease at times, but labor is when you're DONE. Even though it can be hard, the really hard part lasts less than a day and then you get your baby!

LL said...

Actually, because of our anatomy, you have the best seat for avoiding all the yuckiness that accompanies labor. Despite having gone through it, I have NO idea what goes on down there- and I never will. My midwife asked me if I wanted a mirror so I could watch and I saw absolutely not! To this day I have no idea if I pooed on the table, no idea how much blood there was, and no idea how things looked down there- I just remember pushing (which hurt, but it was short) and then holding my baby. It was amazing and part of me is actually looking forward to doing it again.

Don't worry. Women have done this forever with far less help and pain medicine than is available to you :) And if you don't want to have a mirror or reach down and touch the baby's head, don't! (I did neither.) I'm glad you're able to focus on the happy part after labor- it's all you really remember anyway :)

newduck said...

The "joys" of pregnancy? Who have you been talking to? Clearly you have not spent enough time on my blog.

Although I would love to avoid the pain of labor, after a few months of being pregnant it sort of sunk in that I was, well, kind of stuck with it. It's like jumping off the high dive and realizing halfway to the bottom that you can't undo it. Scary.