Birthplan

I'm the girl who lept out of the hot air balloon before takeoff, too scary. I am the 'hiker' who wouldn't cross the river in the cable car, too high. I'm the sort who would rather not run after anything, too much exertion, thanks.

I am no superstar. 'Cept when it came to birthin' baby #1. When we went to pre-natal classes -- what the Junipers say about those 15 hours is true -- I couldn't have cared less about natural childbirth. But the classmates and course leader sure did. We were so out of it. Our course was a two day deal and I remember, everyone had a birth plan. At the end of day one I said to p-man, "You, me and the cats, let's stay home as long as we can. That's our birthplan??" Yep. Well it worked. Amazingly.

While there was a brief window where p-man was asked about a contraction timing and was instead watching TV ... thus I screamed from the bedroom "You are the worst birth partner ever!"... He was a very good birth partner actually at the time -- and, after. I know that many marriages have lustrous moments of unbridled gorgeousness at weddings or through dancing and stuff, our shining moment was the delivery of the Girl Friday. I cannot think of any time of greater closeness in our relationship. I cannot pinpoint any other window where I felt the rush of adoration, support and pride of my spouse like the day we got her in our arms and for those weeks after when he would tell the story.

I believe labour is so apt for my performance birth day. Arrival of our baby was the time at which I was most hard at work in my life (no matter what I thought of my swollen feet all those weeks earlier.) I killed in there. And, I was rated a SUPERSTAR! by my husband. But bear in mind...

I remember it all quite choppily. The night after the birth, sometime after the 'sushi and gin' delivery, I said to papa-man.. so tell me, what happened? He tells it very well and so spritely as to be completely uncharacteristic. For those who have been concerned by the lightening of his tones in the last few weeks, wonder no more why. The time is near. We are in our 39th week and he's morphing into that birth junkie all mushy and sweet; transfixed on the thrill of his family growing ... knowing another bundle of unconditional love is about to fall into his hands. No pressure, eh?

So wish me luck as the time draws me in. I do hope we can have another unmedicated and uncomplicated birth. And, I'll say unabashedly not just for the sake of the baby but for the chance to repeat the closeness of mother and dad in bringing out baby.