Tuesday I had my 38w OB appt (at 37+6). The one we've been waiting for really. We have an induction date.
I let my OB pick the date - they already had anyway (they being her and the neonate doc). My beautiful belly boy is to be born on Tuesday 5th April.
I am taking it as another 'sign' that this is meant to happen, this is my nana's precious baby grandson, a gift to me to heal our heartache - mine and my nana's. Bless her cotton socks right to the toes. I sound like a complete la la really, don't I? But I guess what I'm saying is that along with my own upbringing of Christian beliefs, I herald many spiritual beliefs too.
My little man is scheduled to be born on what would be my nana's 97th birthday after all. I didn't choose it. I wouldn't have picked that date, because I would have felt like I was trying to orchestrate something. I probably would have chosen the 4th, or the 7th. But in my head I thought it would be the 5th (being Nana's birthday), or the 8th (being her precious baby girl's birthday).
How do I feel? I guess mostly I'm trying to not think about it. I still slept well last night - I think I'm just not 'going there' right now. I can, in no way, believe that this time next week I will have a new born baby boy to take home. There is, I'm sure, not a skerrick in me that believes that. I try to. I don't necessarily think that my baby will die. Or anything like that. But I do feel that what I'm supposed to be believing is like believing that... well, I don't know... the tooth fairy is real!? We all go about the regime as if the tooth fairy is real, but we all know in the end she's not really, and nothing will change that.
:::
The drama that I was having over the ILs coming before I leave I managed to work out, with the help of my innocent OB, bless her haha!!
In short, she wanted me in the city by 3pm to do an internal and in need do an early dose of gel if my cervix remains long and closed, and then I will have a second dose (or first) at around 10pm in need. They want to avoid me labouring over night, or more to the point, avoid a baby being born during the night!
So, I turned to Shane and told him that that will work well as he can drop me off and then go and do his chores. What chores, the OB wanbted to know. Well, pick up his mum, feed his dogs... She worked in with me well. And also told him in no uncertain terms that he needed to be spending the night in the city, close to the hospital, preferably on the hospital grounds, just in case bub decided to come quickly.
:::
But then everything went to shit again the day after, in regard to my IL issues... when Shane announced that he had to return to work the week after (i.e. he is only able to take one week off work, which will be mostly while I'm in hospital). And whereas he spends most of his year working on the property we live on, so isn't too far away, and in most cases can orchestrate his time so that he is under my feet too much (oh, did I say that?!) at the house, which would be fine in this case.... however, the week of his return he is just so required to work at the other property which is just over an hour away from here.
Putting me in the position of either being here alone with itty bitty, for our first week at home.... or giving in again and agreeing to having the ILs here after all. Oh, golly. I can tell you there were tears. Stress, frustration, despair. And then there is the other part of me that says really... in the big picture... it doesn't matter that much. But it does, because I feel so strongly about it all, and feel backed into a corner. I'm also disappointed that Shane won't be here as I had hoped. I had hoped that we would learn to be a family of three together for those first days. I'm sure he could have put his foot down with his employers just a bit more, but he's not that type of person. He's the good guy. They can shit all over him, and he'll still do what he's required by them, no questions asked.
So, for a day or so I was once more back to deep breathing, and calming my head over the IL thing. And I did a bit of analysing too. I don't dislike my MIL at all. How many times have I said that? But she does drive me up the wall. She does stress me out. She does do my head in. She does dote and hover, but by the same token whereas she oversteps the mark on some things, then she will pull back in fear of upsetting me or someone. So, she's really only doing half the job. Even for example, she loves to cook for us all the time, and takes over the kitchen while she's here, but she'll do things like ask me what I would like taken out for dinner tonight... when really I'm used to my own mum just saying we'll have blah blah. It's like a restaurant but she doesn't give me a menu. Or she'll get everything ready to cook, say a roast... the veg and meat etc, and have all the fat hot and ready to go, then say to me that she'll let me put it all on "the way I like it"... and then when I say well, I don't actually cook in fat etc she gets all offended. I'm happy to eat the old fashioned meal, but don't half do something then expect me to take it over your way!
Right, so moving right along, I was just starting to accept it all... begrudgingly (like what else could I do), when my mum rings to tell me that she's managed to influence things to go "our" way... in other words, my parents are now staying a few extra days, which will give them at least two nights at my house with me. In true fashion, there's my own parents not wanting to put the ILs out so they were saying they would stay in town (1/2 hour away) at a motel! I don't get the same kind of respect from my ILs. If there is a bed spare, they are in it. So my response to my own parents is forget it... the ILs will be told that plan A is still in place that they are to leave the house before my arrival home from hospital (though I won't put money on it), they can take my car to BILs, my own parents will arrive probably the day after (meaning Shane and I get at least a bit of space with bub), then on the Sunday my parents will leave, and ILs will arrive back. I'll then have to put up with them here, while Shane is away for work and only home in evenings. Sigh. But I feel much better about it.
:::
Part of the reason is that I feel next to no confidence in being able to deal with a newborn baby. This pregnancy stuff I have hands down. Heck, even the grief thing I think I'm fairly well experienced now. But if, as we dare to try to imagine, this baby boy lives I think I have no idea where to start in looking after him. Everyone tells me.. you just feed them, change them, and put them back to sleep. But really, it can't be quite that simple. What if I put him on the change table without having everything ready. What if I put him in the bath, and then find something I hadn't thought of is needed. All the what if's... But at least now I will have my mum to help me sort through the mental grief affected head. At least now I won't feel resentment at my MIL telling me how to do things, and having to do it her way because I know no other. I don't even have the words to really say what I want on all of that. But I'm glad my mummy will be here!!
And I'm also glad that my own parents will get to spend time with baby boy while he is so shiny new. I'm glad that he won't be a month old when they really spend time, away from the hospital. And I'm glad that the time will be shared with the ILs... rather than my own parents miss out, while they get the glory.
No comments:
Post a Comment