How Pregnant Ladies Wait

There is a variety of patience that is employed while waiting to go into labour (real labour)

It’s not like the patience involved in waiting for a beard to grow, or for your quinoa waffles to cook.
It’s a very uncertain, edgy, draining time.

Like any moment you could get a knock on your door and open it to a little sprite who tosses water onto your crotch and begins punching you in the uterus at five minute intervals. You won’t really have time to get your ish together and it’s gonna hurt.

So here I am, trying to maintain daily and nightly showers – shave every time – cause hairless stumps are about the only dignity I get to retain while in childbirth. I’m keeping up on laundry and washing my son’s limited summer clothes supply and the random cloth diaper I am able to still sneak in to my routine. Garbage is tossed out daily regardless of the kitchen catcher consumption. And don’t eat too much bean salad, definitely no egg salad. But still eat too much because I have this consuming fear of being really hungry or thirsty while in labour and they don’t let you eat or drink during labour (in the hospital).

Then the doctor gave me a carrot, in the form of a cervix stretching  – but it also comes with an almost guarantee I will go into labour no later than next Wednesday.

And suddenly I feel pressured to do so much with this time.  Make an awesome playlist, pack and repack my hospital bag, have day dates with my kids, give them all my attention even when they are sick of it, do lots of stretching  and food prepping. And napping! And dancing at friend’s weddings!! I’ll try to remember that babies are easier to care for on the inside and all the restless nights of slow crampy flip flopping will help prepare my body for the big day.

So finally I will wait with patience, instead of being prangry. My family is very relieved and I’m off to have a midday bath.


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