Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Happy Birthday to Me

Today I'm 25. Quarter of a century old. 1/4 of the way to my goal of 100. Cue quarter-life crisis.

25 years ago today my mom was in labor giving birth to me, which has added value this year as I will find myself in the same position 5 months from now. Cue panic attack.

My first worry when it comes to pregnancy is obviously the baby. Please, please, please let it be born healthy. Every week I read what the baby is currently "accomplishing." For example:

"This week the baby's ears are moving from the neck to the head."
"This week the baby's eyes are moving from the side of the head toward the middle."
"This week the baby's intestines are moving from the umbilical cord to inside the baby."

Who on earth thought it was a good idea to inform pregnant women about all of these steps? The baby is the size of a nugget, but it's supposed to know how to move it's ears from its neck to its head!? I can't even do that and I'm a quarter of a century old!

Every time I read these "fun" facts I worry. In my head the baby has one ear on the side of its neck, and one eye on the side of it's head. Oh and part of the intestines is sticking out of it's belly button.

But everyone tells you "Oh hush, hush it will be fine." Okay, but in the case that's it's not will you have one of your ears relocated to make the baby feel better?

I didn't think so.

So I worry about the baby. The next thing I worry about? Just how THAT is going to come out of THERE. I know, soooo many women do it. But let's be honest, that fact doesn't actually make it any easier. Right now this baby is the size of an avocado and I think that would hurt. But it has to grow to the size of a watermelon. A watermelon people. (We actually just bought a new painting for our kitchen that pictures sunflowers and watermelons, and every morning I look up and I swear that watermelon is laughing at me.)

It doesn't help that Mark thinks labor is about the grossest thing in the world. He came home from work one day and said "Babe, the guys at lunch told me that sometimes they have to CUT your YA KNOW..." I tried to explain to him that it was called an episiotomy. Episiotomy doesn't even sound like a gross word but as soon as I said it Mark was all "Whoa, whoa, whoa, that's enough labor talk for today." Tomorrow we will try to discuss contractions, but Mark still flinches at words like "uterus" and "cervix" so good thing we have 5 months to go.

I've been making him watch "One born every second" and after the first one came out (still nice and gooey) Mark inquired, "Does EVERY baby look like that when it's born?" With a nice little grimace on his face. I told him that I swear on my life if I look up at him after our baby is born and he has the same grimace on as he did in that moment that I'll make him hold the baby BEFORE they clean it up. AND cut the umbilical cord.

What I'm saying is you should look forward to the future post called "Rambo passed out in the delivery room."

A cousin-in-law pointed out to me that "You can't hold the baby until you have the baby." Which seems like a pretty fair trade. And as I just felt the first flutter of life a few days ago-- I absolutely can't wait.

Happy Birthday to me!


No comments:

Post a Comment