Last night I did something really dumb.
And then I had a complete breakdown.
The dumb thing was that I tried to do a little lady-scaping with the clippers and ended up dropping them (while plugged in and ON) into the toilet. It was only after fishing them out that I realized I’d cut myself and was bleeding from my lady bits. Because there is nothing a woman who’s hoping to give birth soon needs more than cut up lady bits.
I started having my breakdown before I’d even managed to staunch the bleeding.
I’m so embarrassed to even write that but I’ve always wanted to keep things real on this blog and real right now means bleeding from a cut (or perhaps multiple cuts, I have no idea, I can’t see a thing down there) on or near my vag while blowing copious amounts of snot from my nose and dabbing my tear stained face.
Mi.Vida says I’m so close. I can make it through this. Everyone says I’m so close. They’ve been saying that for weeks now. Surely he’ll come anytime, everyone says.
And I believe them. Except he doesn’t come.
I’m reminded of a run a friend I went on during our marathon training. It was a 14 mile run on a six mile trail, so we had to turn around at one point and run back a mile and then turn around and keep going to make sure we logged our 14 miles by the end. This was a trail I had walked many times and I knew it quite well. At the end there is a spot where the trail turns and opens to a straight away and you can see the finish line right as you round the curve. At the end of our 14 miles, when we were so tired we could barely see straight, I thought we were rounding the curve and I told my friend that in just a second we’d see the finish like. Except it wasn’t the right curve and when we rounded it we just saw another straight away disappearing into another curve. I told her I was sorry, that the curve coming up must be the one but she was so angry at me for offering that false hope that she wouldn’t talk to me until we were in the car, driving home.
That is how I feel right now. I’m tired and sore and everything hurts and everything is hard and I can’t get comfortable and it all feels like too much. And I keep being told that this curve is the one and I’ll see the straight away and the finish line but it never comes. Each curve just leads to a new curve and I never know when the curve ahead will finally be the one that reveals the finish line.
I wish I hadn’t gotten checked two weeks ago. I wish I never knew I was already 3cm dilated and 50% effaced. I wish I hadn’t been so sure labor was starting only to have it stop abruptly. I wish it didn’t feel like my baby’s head is already at the zero station every minute of every day. I wish it didn’t hurt to sit or stand or walk to drive or do ANYTHING. I wish it didn’t feel like labor were always imminent, because it never actually comes. I wish this were all more manageable.
I wish I still weren’t so scared something might go wrong.
There is truly a part of me that believes this baby will never get here, that I’m going to live the rest of my life 9 months pregnant, wondering if or when he’ll come. Everyone says he’ll be here in two weeks, at the latest but I don’t believe anyone anymore. Maybe he’ll wait until his original due date, in November. The only thing I know for certain is that no one knows when this baby will come. And I may go crazy waiting for him to arrive.