Sunday, 27 January 2019

The Dry Run

Essentially, the dry run on how little you get to control, when a baby is coming into your life. If you know me, you know I’m a planner. I’m not a through and through type a lady, but I like a plan and I’m not someone you’d refer to as spontaneous- I don’t like last minute Plans unless they include.. a plan. 

Side story, when Jake and I started dating and we’d have plans to go out on a Saturday, I’d ask him “when should I be ready?” And he’d go, “mhm not sure, I’ll text you later on” and since I wanted him to think I was this easy breezy cool chick, I was all yea sure that sounds great - all the while my insides were burning and my skin was crawling from the lack of preparation. 

Anyway, it’s Friday night and my husband has gone to Vancouver for a golf trip with his buddies. He only went because Friday morning I felt great - as I have this entire pregnancy - and as much as I couldn’t give two shits less that it was his “last chance for a weekend away before baby” (hi, I’m selfish too - my “last weekend” was my bachelorette but yea babe, you go nuts), I knew he’s wanted to golf for literally months, so I was happy for him to get a trip away as he’s been working crazy long days. I went to bed around 9, but for the first time I had back pain and I’ve been very lucky to avoid this almost the whole pregnancy. It wasn’t unbearable, more just an annoyance to get comfortable. 

I get up around 1:45 for my #237th pee of the night, and this time there was something unusual accompanying my pee break; I won’t go into too much info for the men reading, but essentially I was concerned as it appeared I lost the plug that acts as a cork to my cervix & can signify incoming labor so I was sitting in the toilet going, weeelll shit. As it was the middle of the night so I couldn’t call any of my nurse friends, and google wouldn’t actually help me much, I phoned the 24 hour nurse line and got to speak with a nurse who confirmed that yea, you should go to the hospital to make sure pre-term labor isn’t happening - you can lose this plug up to a month before labor, but I’m still 8 weeks out. Of course. Of course my husband isn’t home and I need to go to the hospital now, at 2 am. Of course I need to phone and scare the shit out of my husband and ask him to “try not to freak out, but I’m getting ready to go to the hospital”. And of course he won’t let me drive there myself and I have to wake up my mom to come get me - who of course didn’t skip a beat and came and got me looking wonderful. 

So we get to the hospital, and as I’m getting admitted the receptionist (who was actually the real life version of this character, as it so happened), looked awful confused that my healthcare card didn’t match what was in their system. Due to the fact that I changed my name through the BC medical government, but not my actual physical ID. Why? Because I didn’t want to go apply for new cards while pregnant and have my weight on the card be my pregnancy weight - or my picture be my puffy pregnancy face, naturally. The whole reason I changed my name in the system was so that when I actually got admitted, my name at the hospital would be Stuchberry, and after all that they used my maiden name so everything would match. So, add that one to the list - change your ID before you do this for realsies and maybe bribe the person at the ICBC location to let you choose your own weight ;) 

So long story semi short, all is fine. I may have lost the “plug”,  but my cervix is not dilated, baby is not coming yet - good man knows I like early arrivals but even this is too early for me. Circle the block for a few more weeks little dude. However, it allowed me to see that despite my best efforts, even I can’t plan for the unknown of pregnancy and delivery. Our nursery is all but done, clothes are washed and put away, we’re “ready”, but I don’t have a bag packed.  Type A me has wanted to do it since 30 weeks, rational me was telling me not to be a psycho and wait until 36. My mom and I were joking that my dad would have had to go to my house at 3 am with a list I texted him to pack my hospital bag, and just what a shitshow it would have been to entrust him to pack my bag with all my perfect necessities when he’s a) color blind and b) pretty sure he doesn’t know what a scunchie is, and would probably have packed my texture spray and not dry shampoo because they look the same. In all fairness, Jake would have tried valiantly and failed as well. 

I have this vision that when I do go into labor, I will have a shower, wash my hair and body, maybe shave my ankles & armpits since that’s about all I can reach, do my hair, etc before making a leisurely trip to the hospital. & this was a reminder that basically, you don’t get to control how this little person comes into your world; you can plan as much as you’d like to but when the time comes, it may not be so glamorous. And you know what? I no longer care - I just want to meet my son happy & healthy at the end of whatever my labor story turns out to be. 



But you best believe I now have my preliminary bag packed. 

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