There really are no words to describe childbirth because it's different for each woman and it's different with each birth. I can tell you that after having a natural delivery (with my largest and first child), an emergency c-section, and then a scheduled c-section, none of it is fun and I always go into the experience with mixed emotions. At the end of the pregnancy, the baby gets so large that it sits on bones and nerves I didn't even know I had. My Braxton-Hicks contractions have run the gamut in severity with each pregnancy - ranging from practically nothing to so intense I thought I was in labor twice (and that was on my third pregnancy). So, I want the baby to come out, but I have loved carrying the baby inside me for so long. It almost feels cruel to deliver. Babies must feel so loved, so warm, and so secure inside their mother's wombs.
I am scheduled for a c-section early Friday morning, and again my anxiety is starting to creep in. I have been nesting like crazy - I think anyone would be okay with eating off of my floors at this point! And what is it about nesting that it becomes almost an affliction at the very end?! I even went out and bought new garden cushions and a very cute ladybug garden thermometer. Like the baby will see any of that and say, "Wow Mom, thanks for spiffying up the house before I came home!" All the baby's clothes have been washed in Dreft. God forbid they should touch anything washed in Tide! My boys have all had their haircuts, I contacted all my oldest son's teachers for homework ahead of time, wrapped up all the loose ends relating to the Walk for Life I organized, and I've been cooking and freezing as much as I can.
So I've physically exhausted all my responsibilities of the house. But what about my responsibility to my spiritual side - the side that really matters? Am I ready to have this baby? Physically, yes. My body says I'm ready and my house says I'm ready. My spirit says it's not so sure. I want to have complete peace with this delivery. I have three boys and I love them more than my own life. I would be lying, however, if I said I didn't care whether or not I had a girl. I don't even know why. My sons are beautiful, smart, kind, thoughtful, and most importantly...healthy. My wish for this baby is that it is 100% healthy. How much richer could I be if I had four healthy children?
I think in a lot of ways, my desire for a daughter is selfishly motivated. When sons are little, their mom is the center of their universe. Once they are men, they will either be husbands/fathers or priests. The center of their universe will definitely not be mom anymore, which is as it should be. Men must become the leaders of their families and devote themselves to their wives and children. Daughters, on the other hand, tend to cling to their mothers more and more as they move into womanhood. I guess it is a feminine bond that can't easily be broken. I would love to have a daughter to share my femininity with - to give her my recipes, to brush her hair, to shop together, to do all the "girly" things together.
This entire pregnancy has been about letting go, though, and completely trusting in God. This baby was such a happy surprise, and we decided early on that we wouldn't find out its gender. I just felt that after my history of fertility, infertility, miscarriages, fertility later in life, and then this incredible gift of life I should completely and blindly trust God. This baby was here for a reason, and I didn't want to mess with God's plan. Every step of the pregnancy has proven me right. I had three ultrasounds and the tech couldn't even see the gender all three times. The baby was either curled up tight like a ball or sitting facing my spine. I reveled in that. It was like the baby was saying, "If my Mom's not going to know, no one will." I always left the ultrasound with a smile on my face and a skip in my step.
As a Catholic, we have the sacrament of Anointing of the Sick at our disposal - which is not only for those who are dying. We are allowed to receive it before a surgery. I received it before my last c-section, and it brought me peace that I can't even explain in words. It was like a wind whipped in through my hospital room and took out any doubts or anxiety I had. I am going to my parish tomorrow to receive the sacrament once again, and I know my anxieties and doubts about surgery, recovery, leaving my children, and finding out the gender will be washed away. Jesus was a healer...and He continues to be so. The next time I write, I will have held my fourth child in my arms, looked into the eyes of my baby... and seen God.
