I. Labor Induction Rescheduled to July 14th - Mark your Calendars!
The induction/Pod's Emergence has been rescheduled to Saturday, July 14th.
Reasons why this is cool:
a) July 14th is my husband's (the Podfather's) adopted birthday.
b) July 14th is a new moon
c) July 14th is Bastille Day
d) Because it's a Saturday, more family can come and be with me as I wait on the labor . . .
II. C'mon, DILATE
Okay, so my cervix is totally closed still. I'm not dilated at all. My primary ob/gyn is Dr. Ngo - a conservative, rather clinical man. I had to see his partner, Dr. Farid, the other week. Dr. Farid is an older fellow, kind of brusque and extremely forthright. I told him I was freaking out a little bit about the whole induction process, and he kept waving his hand at me, telling me that with an epidural, it's all a PIECE OF CAKE. (Incidentally, my mother, who gave birth to me and my 4 sisters, keeps saying that childbirth is a PIECE OF CAKE. I wish people would say something else because it makes me really want to eat some cake, which I can't right now, on account of my gestational diabetes)
Dr. Farid said this:
- You have boyfriend? Husband?
- Husband, I say.
- Can he sucks your nipples?
- Wha-ha? I say.
- It will stimulate the oxytocin (he points to my head) - same as the pitocin we use to induce contractions
- Uh, ok, I say.
- And can you Orgasm-uh?
- Um, I haven't in awhile . .
- Orgasm-uh is good . . helps to dilate the cervix...
I half expected him to write it on his prescription pad "Sucks nipples and Orgasmuh"
A conversation with Dr. Ngo:
- So Ma'am (he calls me Ma'am) - you're still not dilated.
- At all?
- Not at all. Completely closed.
- So what can I do? Walk? Jump? Climb stairs? Eat a magical salad?**
- Those things don't really work. .
- So what natural things CAN I do to help me dilate?
- Uh. . ahh. . . sex (he says, really haltingly) - the prostaglandins in the semen help to ripen the cervix. . . and also. . nipple stimulation. .
- Um, okay, thanks.
My sister Nikki found the restaurant online which claims to have a "labor-inducing salad." It's in Studio City. We'll either get that salad, or try to make it here at home, and I'll eat it on Friday night. Also, I've been waddling in the mall. I'm very heavy now - my belly hard and round, and I just discovered that I weigh 178 lbs - terrifyingly close to 2 bills! I can't get up or sit down without an involuntary exposition of "OOF."
III. License to Freak Out
Monday, July 9th - after several days of not sleeping well due to the extreme 100+ F heat here in the desert - I awoke AGAIN at 5am, and made a decision - to give myself full, free license to totally freak out as much as I want about labor, childbirth, etc. until Saturday morning. In previous weeks I was fighting it - berating myself for not having better prepared, or for freaking out or crying at all. Reading preggy books and websites with all these women's labor horror stories and whipping myself up into a fine freaked out state. Totally losing my Optimal Mindset.
New Strategy: To exhaust/blow out my fears and anxieties until I get totally bored of freaking out, so that when Saturday rolls around, I will be hyper-focused and serene, with all my energies and emotions at optimal levels and locked on my psychic link with with Pod.
In a conversation with Heather, I affirmed this for myself:
"There will be money, and jobs, and projects and a place to live, and solutions to all the little dilemmas and logistics
in an ordered sequence
and it's my job
to just stay MINDFUL of the moment I'm in
and execute and exist within this moment
as fully and powerfully and with as much self-awareness as I am capable of.
and all the freaking out about "what if's?" are totally unnecessary and lame
and not authentic to my true self, which I know is prescient, powerful and completely unstoppable
because *I* am the ONLY person who ever could stop me from getting what i want
so even *I* have to tell MY OWN SELF "Get on board, or get out of my way""
IV. Pod has named himself
Everyone asks if we have a name for Pod. I knew that Pod would name himself. And he has. During a recent prenatal massage (wherein Pod and I have our most intimate conversations), I had a mini-dream/visualization: I was sitting, propped up, in the hospital bed, being asked to fill out Pod's birth certificate forms. Without hesitation, I saw myself writing out a name, in my own handwriting, letter-by-letter - until I had Pod's first and middle name, ending with De Jesus-Kenefick. It's definitely an unusual name - poetic, epic, literary - but not one that I would have thought of. I even challenged this vision, by forcing myself to imagine writing a different name - any other name, but in the visualization the letters kept coming out the same - that original name as directed by the Pod. He has chosen for himself, and has also requested that his name be kept secret until he is born. I will honor his request. Only Matt and I know the name. When I was finished with my massage that day, I told Matt "I have news from Pod." We had a special lunch at the little French Cafe at the Grove/Farmer's Market, where I wrote the name on a piece of paper, and handed it over to Matt to read. Matt was stunned, but as we lunched, we both were kind of spaced out, as we mulled over the fit of such a name. We are both committed to honoring Pod's request. My mom's reaction to this: "Yeah, right." But I will not deviate from this vision.
V. Thank you cards on their way out!
I only just went on official maternity leave from my full-time job, so I've finally gotten around to writing my personal thank you notes to everyone who was so kind and generous in their gifts for Pod. We have so much stuff - and we're excited to be using all the Pod-gear! I apologize for the delay in expressing my written gratitude, but please know that I am so blessed, grateful and appreciative of all the kind support of my wonderful friends and family.
More to come, as I am expressing in words as freely as I expect to express milks for the Pod . . . and am thankful for all the emails, phone calls and texts.
Always with more love,
Carmen, the Incubatrix
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