Today I finally read Cjane's birth story for her baby girl, and at the end she talked about sleeping for a minute and then not being able to sleep anymore because she was contemplating the experience and, as she put it: "I had too much love in my heart for sleep."
Boy, do I get that. With K.J., I didn't sleep the whole night before he was born out of sheer nerves. And I didn't sleep much the night he was born because... it's overwhelming, to say the least. I was overwhelmed. And he pooped, and the Double B and I didn't quite know what to do. He would cry, and what did we do? I'd try to get up... I tried to be tough... I was basically stupid. I wanted to nurse him but neither of us could figure it out. But I felt love. I had this incredible, gorgeous child in my arms. Dangit, I felt love!
With Olivia, I didn't sleep more then an hour the night before she was born, because I knew some of what was ahead of me and I was contemplating. After I finally fell asleep, I dreamed an angel came and asked me if I'd like to take on the contractions of a friend of mine so she could rest and WHAM-O! I was awake with my first labor pain. And it was a very impressive pain, I will tell you that. She was born at ten in the morning, so I had all day. And I did get up to use the restroom and shower, but I was smart about it. I'd learned some lessons. I wasn't so overwhelmed in a bad way, but in a very, very good way. That night I did not sleep a wink. I tried. I sent my baby to the nursery, but I couldn't stand to have her away from me so I had them bring her back. She whimpered. So I put her in my bed with me, and that is how we spent the night -- she would sleep, and eat, and watch me. And I would drink ten million gallons of water and watch her... the most beautiful baby girl ever born. I pondered it in my heart.
In both cases, my heart was simply too full of love for sleep. Being a Mom will do that to you.
I have thought a little bit about what it might be like when this one is born: but since you never know, do you, I don't spend too much time on it. I have not yet reached the place of abject misery where going through labor and delivery sounds like a good idea. But I get closer every day and will get there, of that much I am sure.
I told the Double B once again that I want to take Lamaze classes, just 'cause I think it would be cool to do natural childbirth. I wouldn't hate myself at all if I got an epidural, but I think it would be way cool. Once again, he laughed at me and then said "You can do whatever you want, but don't expect me to be there." Which sort of... defeats the purpose... 'cause... he's the dad, and all. What a stubborn little man.
Last night during one of my many "I'm awake for no reason" periods I got a little nervous for my poor internal organs -- what is with nighttime and everything seeming worse, anyway? I finally came up with this mantra "Just have faith, just have faith, you knew you were supposed to do this, just have faith." And eventually I was able to go back to sleep. Later when I woke up, I automatically began reciting it: "Just have faith, just have faith." And it did help. That's the interesting thing about doing this to your body: it's hard on it. Sometimes things happen and it makes you nervous for the next time. But I did feel the assurance that I was supposed to do this and it would be okay -- maybe not perfect, but okay. As in: there will be recovery, just like last time. And that is okay, too. Just have faith.
Anyhow, the problem with me right now is that I have gestation on the brain. And you probably don't, quite frankly. So you might think "why am I reading the gestational thoughts of this hormonal person?" And yet you do. And that is why we are friends.