I don't know how I will manage the whole labor ordeal. I have always been squeamish with blood and all that jazz. The labor class helped but it doesn't change the fact that I somehow have to push a bowling ball out of my woohoo (The words of my doctor, I love her).
I am so excited to meet my little angel. And so nervous about not being ready or fit to be a mother. Truthfully, newborn babies have always scared me because they are so fragile and can't communicate, at least not in my language. I don't have any experience with babies. As a teenager, I would always turn down babysitting jobs unless they were older than 3. I think the last time I changed a diaper I was 12. And that was one time!
Lately, I have had recurring dreams about not being prepared to perform at a dance concert. I am about to go on stage and I don't know the routine and I am in the front. I love the metaphor.
Now that I am so close, my anxiety about my baby not making it is returning. His movements make me so happy and provide temporary relief to my fears. He is very restful at times and then POW, he will kick the crud out of me. His strongest movements don't usually occur until I go to bed. I spend all day worrying about whether the cord is wrapped around his neck, my placenta was ripped, he doesn't have enough fluid, etc. So, despite the fact it can interrupt my sleep, I welcome a good kick in the pelvis.
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