Birth Plan, oh how I loathe thee!

Ever since the beginning of my pregnancy I've been hearing and reading about this ridiculous thing that every pregnant woman is supposed to write called the Birth Plan. It's this little one-page essay-type thing that you write talking about what you expect from your birth experience: who's going to be there, will there be music, how you want to be treated in labor, blah, blah, blah. I don't want to start a huge diatribe here, but GOOD LORD do I loathe the idea of a Birth Plan! The truth is that from the beginning it has always seemed like a half-baked, idiotic scheme made up by hippies who love water births or something equally insane, but now, considering that I'm technically overdue and I may be having to consider delivery methods other than the traditional vaginal delivery, I REALLY can't even stand the thought of it. Here's my issue with the entire thing: OK, fine, so you want to have everything written out, just in case you're too out of it to just up and know what you want to happen at the moment that labor hits, but seriously. Writing a Birth Plan is setting yourself up for disappointment. Why should I write a birth plan if that will only force my brain into believing that the possibilites for birth are not only limited to exactly what I want them to be, but should turn out that way as well? I feel like a Birth Plan is a way of saying to yourself: "this is what my birthing experience will be, and anything different will not be satisfactory." Why would any woman do that on herself? Thanks anyway American Pregnancy Association! Isn't the goal of labor and delivery to bring a beautiful, healthy baby into this world? Why should I have to write a birth plan if the plan is to deliver the baby, however or whenever that might be? It just literally pushes SOO many of my buttons. It's been this way all along, but now that things are where they are with me, and I've had to come to terms with a possible C-Section in the end, I just can't even deal with it! I feel myself teetering between the deep and sincere desire to have a vaginal birth and the terror of having to admit to people that I had to have a C-Section if that's what happens, and a Birth Plan is supposed to help me how? The truth is that I don't want a C-Section, but if that is what needs to happen so little H can safely make his way into the world, so be it. The last thing I need right now is an effing Birth Plan or a load of people waiting in line to judge what will be for me a very last-minute and hesitantly-taken decision. In the end, it's my body, it's my life, and it's my baby, and everything else, Birth Plan included, can just go to hell.
All that said, here's the long and short of my Birth Plan: Have a healthy baby.

Gut feelings? Yeah, I used to have those...

This last week or so I've really started to second guess my ability to be "in tune" with my body. So many times I've thought "this is it, this is labor"...but I was wrong each time. What ever happened to gut feelings? I always thought I had those and that I would be able to notice when things were starting to happen, but of course I haven't. I even thought that classes to teach you how to recognize labor were stupid, but now I feel myself wishing I had taken one. Maybe that's just because real labor hasn't hit yet, but I really think that maybe I've lost my sense of gut feeling. There's also some other "feelings" I've had to let go of lately. I think I've been trying so hard lately to force little H out at a specific time so that it would be convenient for everyone around me--convenient for big H as far as work is concerned, convenient for my mom so she could be here to help, convenient for my grandparents since they've been waiting so long to see him and they're on a deadline, convenient for my dad so he could get off of work to come here--but it's just not going to happen that way. As stupid as it sounds, I think I've been most stressed out about little H showing up at a time that was inconvenient for those around me. I mean, for me it doesn't matter, all I've been doing is waiting for him so whenever he comes I'll be more than ready. I've really had to work to let go of that in the past few days, especially since the doctor wanted me to wait another week, past my due date, to see if spontaneous labor ensues, and he is refusing to induce me until I'm sufficiently dilated. The bottom line is that little H will come when he's ready, in spite of everyone's schedules and so forth, and he shouldn't be forced to come any sooner than that. It is frustrating to wait, but knowing that when he comes it will be the RIGHT time is consolation enough. Maybe that is what has caused my gut feelings to sort of disappear....at each time that I had a contraction (which has been many times lately) or something else "labor-like" has happened, I've been so prepared to call everyone and say "here he comes!". Now, after all of those times, I feel like even thinking about a gut feeling is pointless...he's coming when it's his time to come. And as far as my "gut feeling" about when that might be, who the heck knows. More importantly, who the heck cares. I'm ready for him, H is ready for him, our families are ready for him, and this house is ready for him. The only thing left to do is let God send him down our way...and that happening in the safest, most natural way possible is exactly what we're praying for. So please, send yours up for the same thing.

The advent of the stretch mark

I have been such a slacker lately and I haven't blogged in so long, and I have to admit that it's mainly because the latest pregnancy-related developments haven't been all that positive for me. One of the most awful ones is the advent of the stretch mark. In spite of how proud I was to have gone so far without any, the awful little things finally showed up about two weeks ago, only to be made worse by my outbreak of PUPPP, which apparently starts first in the stretch marks on the belly:

BOOO! Oh, and this picture is funny too because you can see how enormous my belly tattoo has become! I was so disappointed to see those stretch marks, and even now when I look at my belly I get sad, but I'm sure they'll heal up eventually (I hope anyway). What's made it all worse, also, is that I've had to discontinue my ritual use of cocoa butter because it was aggravating the PUPPP and making it that much worse. I've switched to some other anti-itch lotions that work quite well, but much to my dismay because I've become so addicted to cocoa butter over the last few years...and even H noted that I "no longer smell like chocolate". Yes, it's unfortunate that they're here, but I guess it's just one more thing to add onto the list of sacrifices I'll make to keep this baby healthy. Oh, and I'm sure that list will get MUCH longer as his life goes on. What a blessing!