Pollyanna
is a nice fairy tale. I don't think I'd ever be able to "just be glad" that I got a pair of crutches instead of a doll, for example, even if it does give me the opportunity to be happy that I don't need crutches. (Yes, that's an example from the book... I don't think I ever saw the Disney Movie.
)Anyway, so, I'm not exactly a natural Pollyanna... More than that, I'm in the midst of a hormone storm. Add the fact that my pelvic bones seem to be adrift, causing seriously bad pain whenever I walk, change sitting position, or turn over in bed, and the mood is just not so good.
So last night, I had contractions all night - starting at 11pm. The problem was that they were not consistent - I had three in a row 3 minutes apart, then one 7 minutes later, another one 5 minutes later, and well, you get the point... so they're not getting longer, stronger, and closer together (which they're supposed to do) so I'm sitting here pondering what to do. Husband came home at midnight, exhausted out of his gourd, and knowing he had to go grocery shopping at 7:45 (b/c that's when he could get a ride) and that he had to go to work today.
So I was on my own. He had to sleep. So I got busy - I packed a bag for Poofy, (the dog's gotta eat, right?) I finished packing my bag. (I added a robe, some socks, stuff like that. Most of the stuff was already there.) I took a nice hot shower. And then the contractions had kind of eased up. So I tried to go to sleep. I managed to sleep, but I had horrible dreams about the baby having a shark in there with it, about going into labor and not being able to find the ward and having to climb up a wet slide to get to the nurse, about Yaakov not being there with me... just bad dreams that make me fairly certain I was having a lot of pain but was managing to sleep through it.
In the morning, I went to the women's clinic here in town, and they put me on a monitor. The contractions were way lighter at this point, and the doctor didn't even bother to look at me. He just told me that nothing was happening, and that's life. I was crying. I just felt like "I worked soooo hard all night, and you're telling me I accomplished NOTHING?!"
I know it's irrational. But it's how I feel.
Anyway, my parents are back! I thought I'd go to their house and they'd cheer me up. Instead, I got a lecture on being positive. Strangely, this lecture led me to cry much more...
It's really awful when you're doing your best and feeling miserable and basically you're told that you're doing a crappy job because you're letting a whole boatload of frustrations and annoyances get you down.
This is not the first time people have told me to be positive...I'm thinking that next time someone tells me to be positive, though, I will positively punch them in the stomach and ask them how positive it makes them feel!
4 comments:
The last stretch is tough! We have scraps of paper left over from our first 2 kids' labors where I'd tell RaggedyDad to write down the time when a contraction began, and he'd just list the times when I nudged him. At some point the pen markings would trail off and I knew that I'd fallen asleep. And generally, if you fall asleep and slept through it, it wasn't "it"!
BeHatzlacha!
Maybe print up some stickers that say "Being positive" to put on everyone's shirt after you punch them.
Contractions are not fun...but it is a sign of the home stretch. I spent about three hours in the hospital from about 2-5 AM two days before my daughter was born. Walked in circles around the floor, and they even told me that I was 0cm (the day before they told me I was 2 cm)...
I don't know how you can go backwards!
Be well and hang in there.
Safranit--the opening is bigger during contractions.
Trilcat--reflecting feelings is usually a much more effective way of helping than telling someone what to feel!
I have a friend who thinks Pollanna is hte greatest book ever written, and always tries to put a positive spin on everything I say. Drives me crazy.
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