- Finishing the kids’ Purim costumes.
- Keeping the car clean.
- Prepping mishloach manot in advance.
- Writing a letter to my kids.
- (Trying) to keep the sink empty.
- Refilling toilet paper.
Just a few falsely empowering things I’ve been doing over the last week in case I have to leave everything behind to dash to the hospital. Like if there’s enough toilet paper in each bathroom, and contractions start, everything will be totally ok. No one will need for toilet paper. Giving birth will go 100% fine.
Welcome. This is an honest post.
I’ve spent the last few months in a constant battle with the fears and anxiety I feel related to the fact I have to give birth in the hospital this time. I don’t care to go into how stupid it is, how unfair it is, how ignorant it is. This is the situation. It’s happening.
And I’m not ready.
I keep half-joking but totally-seriously saying to my husband, ‘when I’m gone, know that the kids’ costumes are in that corner’ or ‘when I’m gone, make sure they take the mishloach manot for their ganenot on Friday’ or ‘when I’m gone, the gifts for the kids are in this bag, bring them to the hospital so the baby can ‘give’ it to them.’
Is that weird? A little controlling? A lotta crazy? I’m honestly asking, I’m new at this.
Last time my son was over at the neighbors for about an hour before we brought him into our bedroom to meet his sister. We all slept in our own beds a few hours later. I tossed my laundry in the basket and it didn’t matter it wouldn’t get done for a little while. I was there. I could take care of it whenever. The toilet paper figured itself out, too.
The thought of leaving your family home to give birth to your new family member is so bizarre to me. Is that weird? Talking to most other people, it certainly seems I’m the weird one. I don’t get how, if all things are aligned correctly, feeding off the empowerment bestowed on you within your safest place is a problem. Am I that anti-social? I just don’t get how spending all that time in a public place is the best idea for a newborn. Or mother. I don’t want people I don’t know or trust talking to me or looking at me while I’m getting it done. Is that really so crazy?
I’m not ready for that. I’m not ready to have to act on an establishment’s universal rulebook. I’m not ready to have to politely decline or frustratingly accept.
I’m not ready to clear my head of negativity and it’s holding me back.
The good news is I started dealing with it today. Maybe I can turn this around in time. Putting myself out there is the opposite of my nature. Maybe that’s the key.
Maybe the toilet paper will start refilling itself.