I have a problem: there is a baby in my tummy. And she must come out.
It’s sort of weird looking down at my very-swollen stomach and realizing that she’ll come into the world . . . somehow. Really? It doesn’t quite seem possible.
And when you look at the size of a baby’s skull and a mother’s pelvis, and when you learn how a baby has to corkscrew her way into the world, it is even more amazing.
We’re going to a childbirth class at my local hospital. I think it is more for my husband than me. I’m actually more worried about him getting through the experience than I am. Though, I should remind myself that he is the one who has skinned a dead animal before. But his wife is not a deer.
My goal is natural childbirth. I’ve wanted to have natural childbirth ever since I knew what natural childbirth was. My mom did it. My sisters did it. I can do it.
But if I do turn into a complete wuss (I have no idea what my pain tolerance is because I’ve never endured much pain), than I tell myself that all that matters is that she arrives, no matter what way.
I still have a few weeks, thank goodness. But I don’t think I could ever be ready.