Monday, July 2, 2012

Week 32: My plan will never work


We have been getting “showered” with so many baby gifts lately. God is really letting us be the recipients of the graciousness of others. A few days ago we came home to find a huge box sitting on our doorstep. A thought popped into my mind of what it could be but I quickly dismissed it because I thought, “Noooo way, no one would actually buy us that!” We ripped open the box to find the most beautifully crafted baby swing! Seth put it together one day while I was at work. I walked into the house to see it placed perfectly in the corner of our living room and I just stood there for a minute with the biggest smile on my face. Up until now all the baby items have been sectioned off in the baby room or in the play area downstairs. This is the first thing that has made its way into the area where we do life.

We have all the essentials. There’s a crib in the baby room fitted with sheets, a stroller/ car seat combo with dangling toys, and now a beautiful baby swing to soothe little one’s cries. I’m 32 weeks pregnant. I’ve heard stories of women giving birth at 32 weeks and having healthy babies. My due date is less than two months away. That’s a lot to take in!

As I’ve stated in a previous post (Week 28: Waddling without a Stroller at the Zoo), I take a long time to adjust to the idea of change and I hate unpredictable circumstances. I was once quoted in high school saying, “Someday I want to be really spontaneous and just go jump in a lake or something, I’d just have to plan it out first.” I didn’t even realize I had said something ridiculous until I noticed all my friends were laughing and shaking their heads at me. I’m not sure why I hate change and spontaneity. Maybe I’m fearful that the change won’t be as good as the present or I’ll find out I’m not as prepared as I thought I was. I truly believe with all my heart that becoming a mom will be one of the greatest, most-fulfilling things I ever do in my life. But can I be completely honest for a moment and say that the unpredictability of it all is incredibly intimidating?

I went to college to be a teacher, which means I basically got a four-year degree in how to plan out every moment of the day. I like plans. Plans give me security. During school I had a plan for when the plan got disrupted. As a teacher you have to be prepared for the kids to grasp a concept much faster than you were anticipating, get the kids outside when there is an unexpected fire drill, or be ready for the principal to pop in for an informal observation. I always had plans for these unexpected detours.

When it comes to giving birth I can go into the hospital with the best plan and backup plan I’ve ever made. But there’s no way to control the situation to make it align with my plan. I can also fill my head with all the book knowledge in the world on how to take care of a newborn, but my baby might be the exception to all the rules. I can meticulously plan out a schedule for baby to follow and it will probably get off track within the first twenty minutes. I find all that a tiny bit daunting. I know I’ve already spent an entire post talking about giving birth. Women have been doing this for hundreds and hundreds of years. It just gets a whole lot more real when you know it is going to happen to you. Pushing a tiny human being out of you is a lot to process for a planner like me!

When it comes to the labor experience I think the only way to end up with a win here is to have a goal instead of a plan. My goal: end the day with a healthy baby in my arms. I suppose with a reward like that, it really doesn’t matter how you get there.

I’ve become a walking stereotype in many ways lately. I’m sure many of you past and present pregnant ladies out there will be able to relate. I now have to squat down on the ground to get the dishes out of the dishwasher. Getting off the couch requires a “push off” with both my fists, or the steady arm of someone helpful. Taking multiple naps in one day is no longer considered being lazy; it’s normal. At around 4:00a.m. every morning you can find me at the kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal because I’m seriously too hungry to sleep.

Feeling the baby twist, turn, and kick still blows me away. I’m sort of starting to be able to distinguish between where the head and rear are. The kicks and punches are also more centralized to one area so it’s more obvious when it’s a limb or a whole body jolt!

Moms: How were you a walking stereotype?

Blessings,
Shantastic :) 

No comments:

Post a Comment