I am not a SISSY-WUSSY-GIRL!!! Grr!

It's true. I am not... a wuss.

wuss - definition of wuss by the Free Online Dictionary, Thesaurus ...www.thefreedictionary.com/wussCached - wuss (w s). n. Slang. A person regarded as weak or timid and especially as unmanly: "Cats are for wusses, dog men say" (Laura Blumenfeld).

 

Although I am not saying I am manly by any means....I like to think of myself as strong and independent. To a fault at times. Back in my 'single days' I would pride myself on my success at my job. I would carry myself with my shoulders back and my head held high. I would pick up a 70 lb. box of books and load it in my trunk without looking for assistance (seriously- this is heavy for me). I would pump gas in the darkest of night, in a scary part of town with no fear! (Stockton, CA...people!)  I would get out of bed and get myself a late night snack or grab a foot stool to reach something that was too out of reach. Or open a jar of pickles like it was an Olympic Sport! I would climb to the top of the waterfalls at Yosemite and NOT complain- passing the girls (some of which were guys) to prove I COULD DO THIS! I remember a friend of mine that constantly needed her boyfirend's hand to step over a branch....NOT ME! I was independent. Strong. Secure. I didn't need anyone's assistance. I was on a mission to prove that I was capable.

ALL. BY. MYSELF.

Then- I got married.

And I married the Jolly Green Giant none the less! He is like 8 feet tall!!!  (Ok. 6'6- but still!) He is truly freakishly strong. And there is one thing in all my Miss-Independent-I-Am-Taking-Over-The-World days that I never claimed to know ANYTHING about....and that was cars. That was what my dad was for. Seriously. He would make sure my oil was changed. My breaks were good. My engine was fine. Ect. But, then I moved away. 

My Kryptonite- Cars.

 One day while away at Bible College ....in another state.... my car broke down in the middle of the intersection. So I did what every early 20 something girl would do....I called my dad...who was a whole state away. I calmly sat in the middle of the intersection and picked up my cell phone to call my Dad who I knew would fly in with his cape blowing in the wind to push me out of the way. With horns honking...in every direction...I dialed his number. I explained to him what happened and where I was. He proceeded to tell me (or yell at me) to call one of the guys I knew at school because...APPARENTLY my dad couldn't come bail me out of this one. Whatever! Well...Jolly Green Giant just happened to also be a Jolly Green Mechanic.  So- he found his in with me. My kryptonite. I didn't know changing oil from pumping gas. (Well, not quite that bad- but you get my drift.) He seemed to love to dote on me. It started with working on my car...to leaving roses on my driver seat...(more about that later). But I wasn't dumb. I married the guy. :o)..and the WEIRDEST thing happened after we got married....

A total hunk! I know! 

And..I LOST ALL MY SUPER POWERS!

 My legs seemed to turn off after 8p.m. I forgot how to open a jar of pickles. EVERYTHING was out of reach- even if it was within arm’s length! I couldn't lift anything over 5lbs and FORGET about carrying the laundry upstairs. Going on a casual hike seemed like we were going to attempt Mt. Everest!............unless he wasn't around. Then MY super powers came back on and I could do all the above without a care in the world! Was Jolly Green Giant/Superman really my new source of kryptonite?!?!

What HAPPENED!!!

 

 For the longest time I couldn't figure it out. But, then....I got pregnant and it all started to make sense. Have you ever been around a toddler that falls down-hard? If no one is looking he gets right back up as if nothing happened. BUT if he KNOWS you saw him...forget about it! The water works start. I think that is what happened to me. My brave-strong-all-knowing(so he thinks)-Superman can do this all for me. He is my Knight in Shining Armor! Come to save me from my independent ways!

But after the 'Innocent-General-Information' class at the hospital my husband and I attended (THAT TOTALLY FREAKED ME OUT!!!)- you can read about that here: http://theloringfamily.blogspot.com/2012/06/what-do-you-mean-stork-isnt-real.html?spref=fb

Something else happened. I started feeling like I had to get going again! I am going to be a MOTHER! One of the most powerful (if not THE MOST powerful) human being on the planet! I am going to be making dinner with a child on my hip and a dog between my feet. I am going to have to get up at all hours of the night to take care of our little critter! He will need me to be invincible. All knowing. Capable. She-Woman AND SUPERMAN! He needs me to beat down the bullies and wipe away the boogers. I will have to chase him up the hills at the park and be able to keep up with him in the pool. Change a poopie diaper in heels (I will get my high heels to fit again!) and toss it in the trash. He needs me to be like every other Mom out there. And I am convinced now more than ever that every Mother has Superpowers.

 

So I have to buck up!

Call it 3rd trimester hormones. Or the nesting thing or whatever! But all of a sudden with or without Mr. Jolly Green Giant around I have been able to open my own jar of pickles again! I can stand on a step stool (very carefully) to get things out of reach! I can pump gas all by myself! I even diagnosed a scratching sound in my car! (We need new break-pads. But- Dave had me budget for such an occasion! Go Dave Ramsey followers!) I can carry up the laundry and make dinner after working a 10 hour work day. Go to the gym and swim a few laps. I am coming back...and perhaps stronger cause I am doing it all with carrying around a basketball strapped to my stomach!

So slowly but surely my super powers are coming back. I am not a wuss. I can join the elite club of moms who appear to do it all...mostly cause they don't have no other choice. Apparently babies can't change themselves.... (although I here's to hoping there is a 1st for everything!) I may be in labor pushing out this barrel of energy (who apparently is going to be a pro-soccer player activity going on in here) and I am may be saying over and over: I am not a wuss! I am not a wuss! I am not a wuss!

But I will do whatever it takes to join the elite crew of moms everywhere that have magical superpowers!

***This blog is dedicated to my husband who has continuously gotten out of bed to get me a drink, carried up the laundry, opened 1,000's of jars, and helped me make dinner. You are my Superman still and forever! Love you babe! ***

 

What do you mean the Stork isn't REAL!?!?!

Yup. That's right. After attending a hospital orientation to the maternity ward I have learned the truth:

There are NO Storks in the back delivering the babies.

I KNOW.......... RIGHT?!?! 

Since when!?!



This has me totally freaked out!

SUPPOSEDLY, women are really the ones that deliver the babies!

 I KNOW! I mean- I had always heard that women were tired after having the baby...but I thought they were talking about the crying, pooping, and feeding the little guy.

But that's not so!

APPARENTLY it's from pushing a watermelon out of their body!

SAY, WHAT?!?!?!

Ok. So I didn't really think that. I have just really, really, really, REALLY hoped that! And since deep...deep...deep...DEEEEEEP down I really knew the truth I have kinda...sorta....just not thought about any of that. Actually, I have had such a wonderfully easy pregnancy that I literally have forgotten at times that I AM pregnant. I know. Don't hate me. But, it's true. I haven't thrown up once. I haven't been sick at all in fact. I have had some mild heart burn... but don't we all? We did have a mild scare within the 1st month- but after getting a shot to keep the baby safe (I am Rh negative blood or something) things have been fine. No crazy cravings. No out of the ordinary late night runs to get ice cream. Nothing. Nadda. Zilch.

So it may be easier to understand why not only my husband...but me included...have just pretty much forgotten at times that I am pregnant and have lived our lives as normal; getting re-acquainted with old friends, found jobs, set up house, etc. We both know that a baby is coming into our lives in a few more months...but we have been so busy re-adjusting to AZ (we recently moved here to be closer to family and stuff) that we literally haven't truly digested the fact that are lives are about to change.....forever from what we are told:o)!

But, at my last doctor's appointment she told me to go to a hospital orientation to learn the ropes of where to go when it is 'time.' (Apparently some people freak out and run all over the hospital til they find the right wing to go into? Go figure.) So we did. We signed up.

The Orientation.

So here I am. 6 months prego holding my handsome man's hand with my right and our confirmation class letter with my left. We walk thru the double doors of the 'Educational Conference Room' and are warmly greeted by two (what appear to be) female nurses. They give us a little welcome packet, have us sign in, and tell us to find a seat. Easy enough.

So, we calmly walk towards the beginning of the second row toward the front.

Mistake #1.

A few minutes later undercover nurse #1 comes to the front and welcomes us and about 40 other prego mom's and their spouses. She tells us the history of the hospital, information about why this hospital is the best in the area, and thanks us for delivering there. Blah. Blah. Blah. I am starting to think of what fast food chain to hit up on the way home.

Then walks up undercover nurse #2.

She is the one that really drops the bomb on me. No storks.

She starts off by showing us PowerPoint slides of the outside of the hospital: explaining where to park, what doors to go thru, where to check in at, pre-registration, etc. While she is talking I find myself getting a little more anxious....and I am paying a little more attention. My husband, on the other hand, looks like he is about to make paper airplanes out of the packet info. She begins to show more pictures of this room call triage? Some room where they will assess if I am really in labor or not?! (There is fake labor?! Why would God do that? If I am going to go- let's go! That's just mean.)

Then she shows- THE PICTURE.

It is the labor and delivery room.

Terrifying....RIGHT?!?!

Ok. Not really. But for me, something clicked with THIS picture.

I AM HAVING A BABY!!!

That's right!!!!! There is NO getting out of this. I can't change my mind. I can't pass the buck. When I can't open a jar of pickles at home- I pass it to my husband. Apparently- HE CAN'T DO THIS FOR ME! Nope. I. ME. I-I-I-I-I....I HAVE TO DO THIS ALL BY MYSELF!!! Sure- there's going to be people in the room that are coaching me...but really?!? What's that all about?!

As these thoughts run through my mind at a frantic pace- I start to get dizzy, my heart is beating faster, and am clutching onto the chair with my left and my Superman's hand on the right....wait?!?! Superman??? Whatever! I want a cape with GPS abilities after what is just beginning to dawn on me...I am having a baby. Oh. My. Word.

At about this time, Mr. I-think-I-am-Superman, leans over and says while turning to look at me, "Babe, you are squeezing my hand too tight....whoa! ARE YOU OK?!?!" Apparently all color had drained from my face too and he is asking me if I am going to be OK?!?! Did you see the clean sterile room with LEG STIRRUPS?!?!?! AM I OK?!?!?!

I would have loved to slide out the back and re-group but, we were up front. In the middle. No getting out discretely with a basketball strapped to my waste. Nope. I was stuck. I just sat there. I have NO IDEA what Nurse Ratchet talked about after that picture. I have NO IDEA. For the next 30 minutes I simply sat there trying to get my breathing to a regular speed so I didn't hyperventilate and pass out in front of the room of all the other How-come-they-seem-so-calm moms.

After the session ended round two began.

The Nurse-from-Heaven graced the stage. She was the Anesthesiologist. She would be the one to give me the drugs. Now, don't judge me. But, I want as many drugs as they will let me have that will not harm the baby. I have seen, read, and talked to some incredible super mom's out there. But, let it be read here. I am not one of them. I want the drugs. In a glass, shaken, not stirred, with a couple ice cubes, and a pink umbrella.

Bring. It. On.

 Please and thank you.

 (I know it is a shot with a long needle- but let me have this one for now! Ok? They already took the storks from me!)

This beautiful intelligent creature spoke to us of the benefits and the process of getting the..... epidural.

*sigh* I love that word.

Just knowing the relief that it could bring me....it just makes me so happy. This session helped slow my heart again. Color returned to my face. And I began to sing a happy little tune in my head.....until she opened the floor to questions.

The Questions Came.

And came. I didn't even know there was anything to ask.

Epidural= relief.

Please. Thank you.

 But, these mom's (and dad's) asked all kinds of things like:

Question - What are the risks of this medication to my labor? Medications, especially given too early in labor, can slow contractions and labor progress. Studies also show that pushing is longer in women who have epidurals.

WHAT?!?! PUSH LONGER!!!

Question - Will getting analgesia make it more likely that I will have a cesarean? There are mixed results about whether epidurals increase a mother's chance of cesarean, but the most recent research indicates that it does not change the mother's chance of cesarean.

Well, thank the Lord on that one!

Anyways, I didn't have a notebook on me to take notes. These are simply 2 questions I remember. I know. I literally did NOT have a notebook with me to take notes. Shocking. But, I don't know if I could have taken notes even if I tired. I just sat there...stunned.

On our way home... I lost it. I cried and rambled like a mental patient. My I-thought-I-was-superman-but-I-can't-fix-my-wife-husband tried to lure me to get ice cream. But no....even that didn't work on me. He finally smiled as I was talking in a tone that only dogs could hear and wipe away the tears that coursed down my cheeks. That made my fear turn into wrath...and it was aimed at him! How could he SMILE at his wife who is in a state of absolute SHOCK, FEAR, and....and...TERROR?!?!

He leaned over grabbed my hand, kissed my knuckles, and said, "Babe, that was simply orientation. How on earth are you going to handle the child birth prep class next month?"

And that did it. We laughed so hard. No. He didn't have the light bulb go off for him that this is all really happening...I assume that happens for the guys a bit later. But, he IS my Superman. He is the only one who could make me laugh and have all my fear dissipate in a matter of seconds. Sure, it will happen again. Yes, I could do some more research. But, he will be there and help me through....either that or I can throw a shoe at him and tell him to go find the Heavenly Nurse to give me more drugs. ;)

Stay tuned for what happens after the Child Birth Prep Class July 24th and 31st!

Bunches of Hugs,

Lil' ol' Ashley