Two Days

I am two days away from my due date.
I was induced 5 days before my due date with my last baby, and so at this point, last time, I was already a Mom.
This fact makes it exponentially more difficult to still be pregnant two days before my due date.
I am fully expecting to be pregnant at this time next week, and possibly for the rest of my life.

Well, I'm sure the baby and universe have other plans.  But right now, I feel as though I will simply continue to grow a baby into a toddler within my uterus.

Every woman who has ever been pregnant knows that the last few weeks of pregnancy can be very uncomfortable.  But the very last week, if you are cursed lucky enough to make it to 40 weeks can be not only the MOST uncomfortable days of your life, but also very emotionally draining as you literally wait, and wait, and wait. To go into labour.
Having never had this happen to me before.  I continue to wait to fall into this mythical period, called 'labour'.
Every cramp, braxton hick contraction, back ache, I PRAY will turn into the most painful experience of my life.
I am currently PRAYING to be in an immeasurable amount of pain. That's right.  If that is my golden ticket out of pregnancy, then I want it, as Smegol wanted that damn ring.

I am hoping that my next post includes the addition of another occupant on the planet.
Otherwise, I will continue growing this baby into a toddler...

May Day!

My due date is 18 days away.
I was reminded of the power (READ: pain!!) of labour earlier in the month when I had several days worth of contractions that lead up to prelabour and then fizzled into nothing.
It was ok, because I'm not ready and I'd rather this little peanut put on another lb or two before making its escape.
It was ok except for the terrifying hour and twenty minutes of hard contractions.  Contractions that felt and could be seen as abdomen wrenching, tightening that released for what felt like JUST enough time to catch a breath before launching into the next.
Goddamnit.  What am I IN for!?!?!?!?!
It was an unpleasant reminder of my last labour, over two years ago.
But my last labour was induced, and in so many ways, I feel like my last birth experience was somehow "robbed" from me because of the chemical intervention.
The day of my prelabour, I had flashbacks to my first hospital labour when I spent, what felt like hours, but was in reality not even one hour, crouched over an exercise ball.  Crouched over this plastic ball, kneeling on a hospital floor while a nurse held a monitor to my belly on one side and my husband and doula spoke encouraging words on the other.
Each contraction overtook me.
After reading several books about birthing naturally, I now believe that a hospital is not an ideal location for having a baby.
I wonder if the "emergent" atmosphere of the hospital that night, was in some way responsible for my own feelings of inadeqaucy?
While I am terrified and excited for my impending birth, this time around, I am also aware that my surroundings will be very different, and this time I know the strength of my body and understand that this time the hormones surging through my body will be all my own, and not dripping through a tube into my veins.
Hopefully my "May Day" comes sooner, rather than later...