I’m 35 weeks pregnant tomorrow. The last few of those weeks have been a roller coaster, and the ride is not quite over. I am not 100% certain that I have a doctor right now, which is the main thing causing anxiety. I don’t do well with limbo, and doctors’ offices are notoriously awful at doing things expediently. Meanwhile, I’m in a lot of pain, I’m crampy, I’m grumpy as hell, and I am ready for this whole pregnancy thing to be over. The pain of labor and birth and the exhaustion of two newborns now feels more manageable than continuing to be pregnant.
Except it’s still early. Ideally, I’d at least hold out til 36 weeks. Every time I suspect labor may start, I have this fantasy of them coming now. And then I remember the likelihood that they would need NICU time, that they can have both short- and long-term health issues. I remember that I don’t know if I actually have a doctor and have never even been to the hospital where he has privileges.
Why don’t I know if I have a doctor? The short version is that I transferred my care to a new doctor who is willing to deliver both babies breech vaginally, and apparently that doctor needs an official Order of Transfer from my old doctor. Old doc’s office seemed confused by this and they’re dragging their heels. I don’t blame them. I’m no longer their patient. I, too, am confused as to why they need to send an official order of transfer when I’m the one who chose to transfer my care. The new doc has my records. Why do they also need approval or permission or whatever from anyone else but me? I can’t help feeling like there is something really messed up about that. My experience with medical care this pregnancy makes me never want to see doctors for anything again. I am definitely done being a pregnant person and having my care led by them.
Today, Josh bought me a cane to help me get around. I want to articulate precisely what pain I’ve been in, but pain is relative, and it would sound like an exaggeration, I’m sure. Either way, it has been miserable. I feel trapped by my body.
Josh also found me a pool to swim at today. I thought I’d swim for about 30 minutes because breathing is harder these days and I haven’t swum since my last pregnancy, three years ago. But it was so incredible. I teared up when I got in and my belly floated up a bit to my ribs. I swam just a length at a time, but I didn’t stop for over an hour. My pain gradually waned. I felt strong and capable again. My huge belly swayed left to right to left as I swam, not really ever getting in the way, just smoothly following the rotation of my hips. I didn’t want to get out. I desperately did not want to get out.
When I climbed the ladder, my tailbone immediately bore the weight of my body again. My stomach hit the top ledge, and I had to lean back to ascend the last two steps. The group of seniors gathered for water aerobics commented on my size. A lifeguard kindly offered to return my kick board for me.
The other night I asked myself if I’m afraid to give birth again. I don’t think I am. All the unknown aspects have had me on edge for awhile, but I’m capable of birthing babies vaginally, as long as I’m given the chance. I found myself repeating, “I can and I will.” It’s simple, but it kind of cuts through all the noise.
I can and I will.
I can and I will.
I can and I will.
I’m getting to this after you HAVE given birth and you are there. You can and you did. And I have no doubt the fear of having the two newborns will come, but you will do it. You can and you will.
Thank you, Nicole!