God Doesn't Use A Calendar

These days there is just so much technology surrounding us that it almost becomes easy to allow ourselves to think we are in control. This is dangerous, because it begins to take God out of the equation all together.

When it comes to pregnancy and childbirth, the technology is astounding. We know the sex of our children months before they arrive, we display pictures of our unborn, sometimes in 3-D, in cute little frames that we purchase at the baby mega-store. We carefully arrange the conception of these babies so that they arrive at a convenient time, and sometimes, take conception outside the bedroom all together and leave it to a test tube. With the soaring rates of birth via cesarean section, we often know the exact date and time that our children will arrive. All of this is at times wonderful, and scary too. Don't get me wrong, I have several sonogram pictures hanging on my refrigerator at this moment, tried my best to make sure that Paddy boy wouldn't be a Christmas baby, am madly in love with at least three toddlers who started life in a test tube, eagerly await the late fall arrival of one baby who was artificially inseminated into his/her lesbian mother, and am no stranger to the (dare I say?) convenience of cesearean section. Technology is not bad, it is often a catalyst for miracles. What is bad, is when we allow ourselves to forget the true source behind all of it. God. Without God, none of this would be possible, and we must never forget that. (incidentally, anyone who wants to burn me for implying that God is behind my lesbian friend conceiving a child can save their matches - I am prepared to argue this one to the death.)

I live my life in fear and awe of my One True God. Also, I am a very private person when it comes to some matters, especially medical. That said, I don't mind telling you that this next child, like the past three, will be delivered via cesarean section. I do not know whether it is a boy or a girl, and I can almost definitely assure you that he/she will be several hours old before an official moniker is in place. I do know the scheduled date and time that this child is supposed to arrive, but I am not giving out that information, to anyone except the babysitter. The reason, is that said schedule is completely of man, and not necessarily of God, and it is God who is in control here, not me, or the Dr or scheduling clerks. I am about to have major surgery where two lives will be at risk, and I am not about to mess with God.

First Son was delivered via emergency c-section two days before his due date. We had had a sonogram that day which showed the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck times two. The OB wanted to induce labor, but my maternal instincts told me otherwise, and we opted for surgery. Thank God we did too, because the cord was actually around his neck four times, and the mood in the O.R. when he came out was one of astonishment and gratitude. Several nurses came up to where my head was and said "Thank God, you made the right decision" and I also heard the assisting doctor say "Could you imagine what would have happened if she went into labor?" So, I credit my beautiful, sweet, smart and funny First Son being just that, beautiful, sweet, smart, funny, and alive, to God, of course, and to my and my husband's ability to listen to the voice of God on that fateful day and make the difficult, unpopular decision to go the surgical route.

With Curly girl I was given a choice to either schedule a c-section or attempt a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean). Not surprisingly, I did a lot of research, a lot of reading, and a lot of praying on the subject. I decided that the medical risks of either choice were about equal. Knowing my own anxiety issues though, I thought that I could probably deal better with the risks of a scheduled c-section. However, I also felt that I was missing out somehow on this amazing experience of natural childbirth, and I felt a little sad about that. In the end the decision was made to schedule the surgery for a date very close to my due date, but, in the event that I went into labor before then, I would once again listen to the voice of God and attempt the VBAC. Well, no labor, no VBAC. Curly girl arrived on her scheduled date, with her umbilical cord wrapped around her own neck two times. The OB pronounced that my body simply produces really long cords.

With Paddy boy VBAC was no longer an option as my uterus had already endured two c-sections and the risk was now too high. The curve ball with that pregnancy however, was that my doctor scheduled himself a two week vacation in South America for weeks 38 and 39 of my pregnancy. Nice, right? So, I could either schedule a c-section with one of his associates, or take my chances and try to wait until my due date, which was the morning after his plane landed, and have him perform the surgery. The contingency plan with all of this was that in the event I went into labor while he was away one of his associates would deliver the baby. So, I could schedule surgery with a stranger, or I could take my chances, not schedule, and , worse case scenario wind up having a stranger deliver anyway. Seemed like six of one, or half a dozen of another to me. I decided to wait, and thankfully Paddy boy complied. He was born on his due date, via c-section, with his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck, times three.

This time, I told the OB at my first appointment soon after the stick turned blue, that under no circumstances whatsoever, was he to leave the country during the month of May. He complied, and instead went to Korea back in February. Fine by me. So here we are, 36 weeks. The Doctor is in the country, and the date is set.

When is it? I am not telling you. I am not telling anyone. If this child wasn't going to be delivered via scheduled c-section neither you nor I would know the date of his or her arrival. Even now, the baby could come at anytime, he or she isn't privy to the schedule. My husband & I know, the Dr knows, as does his staff; and the person whom I have asked to watch the cherubs that day knows. I don't see how anybody else needs to know. Me, Hubby, the Dr, and the babysitter.

Now, this annoys some people, but really, do they have any right? Just today someone asked me if I had a date yet, and I said " yes". It seemed that this person wanted to press on and ask when, so I said simply "I am not telling you, I am not telling anyone". Of course, as I said, this is my 3rd scheduled section, and I have never told this person when I was going into the hospital to have the others either, so I am not sure why there was any surprise that I didn't tell this time. I went on to explain that my decision was a personal one for me, I have some anxiety issues, and a c-section is major surgery. I just don't need the extra anxiety. I prefer to deal with these things quietly, privately, and personally. I am not a Holy Roller, and I didn't think it was really necessary for me to defend my decision by getting into a heated religious debate that would not change anyone's opinion.

My conversant went on to say "that's really strange". Now you're calling me strange? So what if umpteen years ago you knew the day that your labor would be induced and you didn't mind telling people? You weren't having major surgery! And...most importantly...you're not me! You don't live inside my mind (be glad), so I don't expect you to necessarily understand, but I do expect you to respect me. I found that remark rather insulting, but since I know that it wasn't meant to be I am letting it go! Yes, it would probably be more convenient for planning purposes if you knew the date, but, that just isn't the way this is going to happen, sorry. I can promise you the first phone call once the child makes his or her debut. That's the best I can do.

I am not telling you the date of my scheduled c-section unless you need to know, and chances are, you don't need to know. If you would like to wish me well, or keep me and my family in your prayers, don't let the calendar dictate that. A calendar is just one more technology that doesn't really include God, even if he is at the center of it all.

Perchance to dream...

Lately I am just so darned tired. It is sometimes hard for me to fall asleep at night because my joints hurt, and I have to wake up early each day to get First Son off to school and tend to Paddy boy (Curly would sleep till noon most days if I let her, and even if she does wake up she's a pro with the remote control!). So, I look forward to Saturday morning as if it were a giant ribbon wrapped box under the Christmas tree. Hubby is home, and I don't have to wake up!! I am entirely too optimistic about this premise though, because both my dear Hubby and my dear First Son were born without the ability to be quiet unless they are themselves asleep, and lately sleeping late for either of them means 6:30AM.

This past Saturday I was so frustrated with the level of noise that I actually rose out of bed at approx. 7:45 to tell the entire brood how ridiculously rude and unfair they were all being. It was not pretty. Hubby tried in vain to defend himself with some lame excuse that went "I keep telling them...." but, I shot him a look of death and then wondered aloud about exactly who thought it was a good idea to turn the washing machine on at 6AM, and then run it unbalanced so that it sounds as if a Mack Truck is barrelling through the house? Hmmmm?

I went back to bed and thought with pleasure about the days coming soon when I will be sedated in a hospital bed, having just undergone major surgery, when I will actually get a chance to sleep! I mean, is that sick or what? I am looking forward to the hospital as a place of peace and quiet?? Does anyone else think something is wrong with that idea?

Well, today came a state of bliss that I thought I would never see. Since I spent 14 hours away from home yesterday travelling to and from the Papal mass at Yankee Stadium, my dear Hubby and MIL worked it out for me to be able to sleep as long as I needed in total peace and quiet! I LOVE THEM! Hubby went into work a little bit late today, and brought the cherubs to MIL at about 7:30 this morning! Except for a random door bell ring at about 7:45 (someone looking for my tenant), which wasn't even that bad as I needed to get up to use the facilities and have a drink of water anyway, I slept uninterrupted until...11AM! Wow. It felt so good. I then brewed myself a nice cup of tea and baked up some fresh cinnamon rolls while watching The View! I can't remember the last time I have been so indulgent! (for that matter, I can't imagine the next time it might even be a possibility to be so indulgent) It really made such a huge difference in my life. Just to be able to rest my tired bones and body was so refreshing to my soul!

Saturday morning I woke up snarling and snorting, Sunday I spent a day with the Pope, and next thing you know today I am sleeping like a...really tired, 9 months pregnant mother of three ( ...well, we know how babies sleep, and I certainly slept better than that!). My 14 hour pilgrimage to the Bronx yields miracles in under 24 hours! Amazing.

Seriously, thank you SO MUCH to MIL - you were a Godsend today, and everyday!

Time on my side

Time. It is infinitely finite. The days on the calendar stretch on in perpetuity, but each one comes to it's fateful end, much too soon. 24 hours really isn't enough. Each day I awake full of hope and energy, yet each evening I inevitably lay my head on the pillow, exhausted, with only a portion of my to do list completed. Am I too ambitious? Maybe. Inefficient? Only sometimes. Nine months pregnant and therefore prone to bouts of exhaustion? Definitely.

I am a glutton. Everyone who knows me, knows that my plate is full. That's the way I like it. I run one book club, am a member of another, participate in a monthly Bunco circle, just recently stopped working one day a week, chair one or two PTA committees, conduct wedding rehearsals at my church, am planning Curly's birthday, teach a 2 hour religious ed class to ten 3, 4 and 5 year olds every Friday, and try in vain to maintain several friendships and familial responsibilities. Oh yeah - and I already have three kids, a house, and a husband. Once in a while, I write a blog, but that's not so much! It's life. My life. It's just that these past few weeks have been crazy. I actually had one friend call to see if I was ok, was I in the hospital maybe?, all because I haven't posted in my blog in such a long time.

Lately I just can't seem to cross enough off of an ever growing list, and time is running out. This baby is coming, whether I am ready or not. This is the first time in four full term pregnancies that I do not yet have a hospital bag packed at 36 weeks. In the past, my bag has been at the ready, hospital earrings and all, by 30 or 32 weeks. I haven't even looked at, much less washed, a stitch of baby clothes. In fact, I haven't even bought the Dreft! The bassinet is still in the basement. In the past, I had by now, stocked my freezer with 20 homemade dinners, to insure a smooth transition after we brought the newbie home (because seriously, if dinner is on the table, then things at least seem normal). My freezer today? Well, I did recently clean it, but it's full of mostly bread and french fries (french fry sandwich, anyone?) . I recently ordered the Big Brother/Big Sister t-shirts, I just hope they arrive in time. I did also have hubby get the car seat down from the attic, so we can bring our new baby home, even if he/she is naked. At least it's spring, right? Who needs clothes, ...I bought diapers.

Today we are off for the official meeting of Baby "D" who arrived in grand style on the "day of fools", foiling his Daddy's plans to be at Yankee Stadium for the season opener; then First Son has a soccer game. After that our day is quiet. (quiet being a very subjective term). Tomorrow I am off to Yankee stadium with Aunt Tay, as we were honored to receive the golden tickets necessary for entrance to the Papal Mass, and next weekend I am escaping to a rented house on the North Fork of this Island to catch up and relax with six of my closest girlfriends. First Son is off from school this week, but he does have two dentist appointments. I also have been invited to lunch sans kiddies with my good friend SBW. I will fit it all in, I am sure. And whatever doesn't get done...well, there's always tomorrow.