So, we’re all confirmed: unless I go into labour over the weekend, we’re heading into the hospital for a C-section at 9.30 on Monday morning. Changing the face of Monday mornings forever, right? Geez. I’d usually be happily sipping on my morning coffee at that rather civilised hour, but instead I’ll have been nil-per-mouth (NOT EVEN WATER?!) since midnight the night before. Not even a coffee to steady the nerves.
It might sound like I’m a little bit petulant about the whole thing, and I guess (if I have to be honest) I am, rather. The whole of pregnancy has felt rather like a series of indignities that have been visited upon me by the universe. I know, I know, it’s a miracle and all that, but it’s also amazingly uncomfortable, undignified and (again, if I’m honest) a total pain in the ass. At the moment, all I want is to never, ever be pregnant again, and yet, I’m fairly sure that motherhood has some new indignities hiding up it’s sneaky sleeves for me. So, there’s that to look forward to.
It’s strange. You hear of people who have this instant connection to the child growing in their belly. Mums and even dads who are bowled over by the miracle, absolutely besotted with the child they have yet to meet. I’ve not really felt a connection to this child yet. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s my brain’s way of protecting me if anything should go wrong (look, I’m a little bit pessimistic at times, and have been waiting for a disaster for the last 9 months). I’ve read about people like me, mums who don’t feel much for the child they are incubating, who fall in love the moment they are born. I’ve even read about mums who are besotted with their unborn child, only to discover that the actual baby is something quite different to what they were expecting.
I don’t know what will happen to us. I know that, given how I feel about my retarded dogs, I will probably love this child with unreasoning abandon. I hope so. I hope that once he’s out and about, a real, living, breathing thing, that I’ll feel that connection and be able to shuck off this weird feeling of disconnectedness. That I’ll be able to honestly tell you that it was worth it. That I’ll be able to feel that all the new indignities that new motherhood will force upon me will be worth it. I hope so, or I’m in for a helluva ride over the next few months.