I’m exactly ONE WEEK AWAY from my due date as of today (Tues 4/2). So much has been happening in the span of just a week or so, and it’s difficult to pinpoint what the general overall theme of my experience has been. So instead of trying to do that, here’s a small collection of some of my more entertaining follies of the last week.
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As I had mentioned before in another post, people are particularly jumpy to me going into labor… WAY more jumpy than I could ever be. It’s quite fascinating actually. As I was walking down the hall at work the on Friday, about to leave for the weekend, I was yelling back toward the studio toward Dave who had told me to make sure and keep him posted if anything substantial happened over the weekend. I responded back, “Yeah I’ll be sure and text you from the delivery room!” – an unintentionally comically well-timed retort as I was passing by the sales office. As you can imagine, a flood of concerned coworkers appeared from all directions, in a chorus of “WHAT???????” No, no, no no no people – I’m NOT in labor! Chill! Ah, hell, what did I start?? (I tried to repeat the same scene yesterday, but being that it was April Fool’s Day, no one took the bait.)
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Friday night. Walmart “Date Night”. Probably the bonafide hallmark of my otherwise uneventful weekend. Anthony and I pried ourselves from my self-imposed boredom of the couch (I don’t want to do too much, as I’m getting false Braxton Hicks contractions all the time if I overdo it.). A trek to Walmart turned into a panic scenario for me, as I realized “Hey, I could go at any moment! and wouldn’t it be completely cliche if my water broke while I was in Walmart? Wait…what?? Why did you have to go there? Stupid mind!!”
It was about at the stationary aisle, not too far into the store, that my thighs started giving out a little bit and I began to walk softer…fearing that every step could bring a very unwelcome scene (for me at least, and for the squeamish). Step by step I imagined myself becoming a story in my own morning Freak Files. And the headline would read: “Radio Host Gives Birth at Walmart!” It was at about the housewares department, I quite stealthily took over the navigation of the cart from Anthony without letting on that I was particularly alarmed… I needed something to lean on. It was at about the ammo section (don’t ask, don’t judge), the pressure in my lower abdomen (alright…my pelvis) was too much to bear and I was of firm belief that baby was just going to drop right out of my body. Among the hunting gear, by the camouflage trucker hats, was undoubtedly where he’d make his debut.
Gingerly, I made it through the rest of the store without incident, without birth, and without about half of the items I had on my mental list of things to buy.
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And finally, I’ve been looking all over the place for a succinct account of what REALLY happens to you after you give birth. And, well, it seems that’s what’s not frequently talked about or written about. Glossed over. Oh yeah sure, you’ll be on this high from having your little one, you’ll be so tired because you’re up every 2 hours feeding the little tyke, you’ll be this that and the other thing for the next 2 months… NOT very helpful accounts of what I should truly expect. Don’t give me the flowers and unicorns and miracles blah blah blah. I need the cold hard painful truth.
What I wanted know was, what happens [ahem] downtown. Yeah I went there, whatever. What a gal really needs to know is how long she’ll be walking funny, using an inflatable donut to sit on, screaming bloody murder every time she has to use the bathroom and humbling herself when purchasing Depends undergarments. Ya know, REAL LIFE people! [rolling eyes] How DARE anyone talk about these things???
I’ve been a member of a sanity-saving email newsletter for a bit now – Lucie’s List – for which every expectant mom should sign up. In fact it’s so entertaining that it’s a good read if you’re not expecting and you’ve just been-there-done-that before as a mom. There ain’t no sugar coating around those parts, let me just tell you – and it’s refreshing. If you want the real deal, put down all your other baby books to save for later, and sign up. There’s A LOT of information in her newsletters that will cut through the dry medical info that you will be reading.
One topic in particular that I’ve bookmarked and referred to often is the postpartum survival check list. It’s not pretty. In fact it was a pretty clear sign of what I should prepare myself for after getting home from the hospital.
The other day, with my level of public-birth-paranoia firmly back in check, I went to Wegmans with the intent of buying everything I could on the checklist, which I had pulled up and ready to go on my phone. I loaded my basket with stool softener, Tuck’s Medicated witch hazel pads for the inevitable ouchies, super duper ridiculous maxed out maxi pads, squirt bottles… and of course, chocolate chip cookies and a trip to the hot foods bar (those were on MY list, not Lucie’s)… when I realized this was quite the shock-and-awe-inducing set of purchases that I didn’t think any register clerk was ready for. I mean, it probably would have been quite funny (especially if I went in search of a Sitz bath and maybe some duct tape and a copy of “50 Shades of Grey” to add to the pile)… but being instantly humbled and embarrassed, I thanked my lucky stars that Wegmans had a fleet of self checkout machines so I didn’t have to have that discussion with a clerk. Though, I’m quite sure any security personnel watching the cameras on the other end was having a good laugh at the apparently fun night I had planned.
So I did the only empowering thing that I could do at the moment… I scanned my Tucks pads, patted my belly, and smiled and waved at the security camera hovering above my checkout terminal.
