Tick tock

The final month has been the hardest thus far. Initially, the anxiety of parenthood can be intense. It comes in waves much like the nausea did. I remember feeling so sick for months with no break-" ugh, when is this going to end? This HAS to be the worst part of pregnancy". I wondered if I could whip my confused and unsure self and relationship into a suitable state to raise a person without completely screwing them up. I wondered if eight months was enough time to come to terms- recognize with my inner sins and flaws and uglies enough to tackle them to be the best of who I can be for my child. Anxiety grew and faded with each new scenario I forced myself to assert.

As pregnancy has shown me- I had no idea what was to come next- the next phase far surpassing the previous challenge. Now, anxiety has hit an all time high and on many levels. I am about to have a living being who will need my constant attention for years to come- no break on being a mom. The thought bothered me not because I am lazy or worried I will neglect her but because I realized the possibility of loss. There are times when I let my mind think of what I would do if something happened to Joel. How a part of me would die forever and how tragically broken life would become. How I would manage to live- dependent I am on him right now. And -on top of that- think about (thanks to those ever so present nightly baby nightmares) about the possibility of something happening to Ezraa. The anxiety and imagined loss is unfathomable. Of course, you think- just don't think like that.. Focus on this or that. Easier said than done. Then the anxiety of how you will juggle the world and your interrupted plans around this baby sets in. What about your plans for that dream shop? Welding? What about your travel dreams and personal wants and desires. What do you let go of and keep for that balance of parent and self? The mind whirls.

I feel for my sister Nicole as I see see how hard it has been for her to juggle this issue as a single mom. I am beyond appreciative that I have had Joel by my side through this. Yeah, there are the little things... I wish he would have quit drinking and smoking cigarettes like we agreed on. I wish he had expressed himself and thoughts on this pregnancy more often- or walked with me more. But then I look at how he works 17 hour days and only sleeps three hours and comes home with that smile he has- always sweet... no matter how his day went. How he will sit and rub me and ask me how I feel. How he will sit and listen to me talk for an hour about nothing or my pregnant feelings before eating or taking off his shoes. I feel so fortunate to have him by my side- it has made this all bearable. I shiver thinking about trying to do this with previous partners.

Makes me appreciate how lucky I am- easier this will be with someone like him.
I mean- this is a perfect example.

I made the decision to delete Facebook for a while because of the intensity of excitement and understandable toe-tapping that I would "log onto". I found myself, the past few days, having mini panic attacks and not being able to breathe. Checking myself into to ER because it was so overwhelming. Not going out much- living my life without my usual ways has proven that I am not cut out for a stay at home life. I would log onto my little outlet into the world of friends thoughts and self-glorified lives and be bombarded with "Is she here yet"? "She should come on this day because it works for me". Baby?? As if I wouldn't let people know and just had a baby overnight and decided to post about Joel farting. No big deal.

With the already growing anxiousness of her unknown arrival, wear on my body, and inability to sort through rational thoughts and hormonal frantic episodes the toe tapping and social pressure threw me into a panic. Since i made the decision to make this pregnancy so public it is no ones fault but mine. No need to point fingers or play victim. So I decided to just regulate the entire ordeal- the little control I actually do have these days.

Even my mom called me worried why I did that- "It is the only way I know you are alive." I don't mind admitting why or the fact that the distracting pressure was just too much for me right now.

It just made me realize that I wanted to spend my days in a more calm atmosphere- and the need to be healthy for my family- mentally for Joel to come home to. I want to enjoy the CALM before the storm and simplicity of our last few days together as just a couple before we face sleepless nights and less time and opportunities to BE together. Everything is about to become more serious and intense. So I am being selfish and hoarding this time up and hope everyone understands my reclusiveness and want for such needs.

On an update note: I had a rough day today. Nothing seemed to line up quite right. I didn't sleep because of the week + a few days of constant contractions- Joel's 6 am work alarm snoozes- nightmares of dropping Ezraa or her not breathing.- whale tail body- etceteras. I went to my appointment alone again- where they expressed their concern that Joel hasn't been around and wondering the cause of my frequent panic episodes. I have to defend Joel in explaining that he works so much and hear them tell me they think it is attributing to my panic attacks and how important it is to make time together for one another in these last few hards weeks. And the importance of family and friends waiting to visit until a few days after Joel and I adjust as a couple and family. DUH.

Then after a pointless counseling session I am brought into an exam room where I strip down and put on my paper sexy suit and wait for over 30 minutes- and finally get dressed and walk out with my hands in the air like an asshole. They apologize for FORGETTING about me and strap me up to a machine because again my blood pressure is sky-high ( wonder why) and EZ wasn't moving a lot. So they walk out and the machine starts beeping loudly and the midwife comes in ripping papers off and the straps from my stomach. "You need to go to the third floor immediately." (labor and delivery)
"what is going on???" "Her heart rate is very low and your contractions are high. We need to monitor you down there asap. So I gathered my things and waddled to the third floor in a heart sunken daze. I don't even remember how I got there to be truthful- helpless and powerless I went into nowhere land from shock.

Turns out Ezraa is fine. The nurse put the machine on wrong and it wasn't picking up her heart rate. So that was a fun scare. They told me that It is a great thing that my contractions are so steady- it means my body is "preparing for the marathon" and is ideal. She can come tomorrow- she can come two weeks from now. It is all up to my uterus. So on Monday I go to get an ultrasound to check on her weight and stats. I will be 40 weeks. They will determine if we should induce if she seems in stress. Then at 41 weeks they TALK about induction and when we come in at 42 weeks they will schedule induction. SIGH.
There are so many possible what-ifs in this set up that I can't possibly be upset on the news of a possible 2 1/2 more weeks. She can come naturally- we still have a little under a week til her due date. :) we can go in next week and they can say- let us get her out- what day is good for you? (valentines day duhhhh) or they can say- see you next week!

I personally think once 40 weeks has passed it should be OUR choice to induce. But because the average first time mother is 7 to 10 days over due they prefer to wait. So is their reasoning anyway.