We went on an outing on a weirdly warm January day.
My mental state of being was bad. It didn't matter what I knew with my rational mind. I was sleep-deprived, exhausted, unable to breathe, unable to think, unable to laugh or find any sort of perspective. I felt serious depression/anxiety fluttering around the edges of my brain. I recognized the signs of needing help because I've been down that road before. I needed the baby out NOW.
But he didn't come out.
I took the kids to their Explorer's Club meeting. We all made valentines to be delivered to local Meals on Wheels recipients. The kids churned out over 100 valentines in a happily productive hour. I picked the brains of other moms as to how they found the mental fortitude to keep going past their due dates.
I saw my midwife.
She asked, "How are you?"
I burst into tears. "What are my options?" I begged.
She took me very seriously. "Let's check you out and see what we can do," she said. Details aside, the safest route was to schedule an induction the next morning. We did so, and I left the office with the first hope I'd felt in many, many days.
Then my water broke spontaneously that night!
Baby L.0 arrived in the wee hours of the next morning.
|Pictures (at least the ones we take) never do justice to how beautiful a new baby really is.|
Though I am an absolute birth story junkie, I find I am reluctant right now to tell the story in detail. Suffice to say that he is perfect, and the rest of us are as happy as can be. All of the dark thoughts that plagued me are gone. My heart and spirit are as light and joyful as possible.
The rest of the week spun by as L.0 and I rested quietly in the hospital while Dad and the rest of the kids had adventures together.
There is always a line of kids wanting a turn to hold the little fellow. Kisses, coos, and smiles are the order of the day right now.
So we'll "let the baby be the lesson" for a while.
We'll discuss school another day.