I’m not sure when exactly this happened, but recently I’ve been far more excited about going into labour and finally meeting my little bundle of joy, than petrified of the whole utterly unpleasant process! Maybe it’s the heat? Maybe it’s that the cot finally arrived this week and that the nursery finally looks like something from a baby catalogue.
Ever since I decided that one day I’d like to be a mother, and I’d like to give birth to my own child, I’ve been really scared of labour. Who wouldn’t be? Seventy-two hours of pain, sweat, bodily fluids, potential medical intervention, potentially a major operation . . . Tearing . . . Pooping etc etc! Laying on a hospital bed with no pants on, legs akimbo! With random medics donning disposable gloves and having a poke around . . . Just ugh! And then obviously there have been the awful thoughts of what if it’s all for nothing, what if something goes really wrong with the little one, what if I never get to hold them, never hear them cry . . .
I could go on and on, you can probably tell I’ve had major anxiety for quite some time!
Suddenly I’ve hit thirty five weeks, I never ever thought I’d get here. I’ve felt my little one moving since about twenty weeks, ever since I started looking pregnant and not just fat! I’ve felt whopping great kicks from about twenty six or so weeks, and I’ve had feet tucked under my ribs from about the same point, with the joy that is burning rib pain! But now I feel butterflies in my tummy, I feel that I’m on the cusp of something really amazing. I can’t wait to meet my child. I can’t wait to see my husband hold our child. I’m scared I’m jinxing things by even writing this, but I can’t help feeling something along the lines of hopeful excitement.
I can wait a bit longer! I know you are safe in there, having a great time testing out your karate moves and having your body temperature regulated while I melt in the heat! But I’m seriously looking forward to our first cuddle!