laying bare my soul's dark underbelly

Um...Hi there.

I'd almost forgotten what it was like around here, having been gone from the innernets for ten days or so. Nice to be reacquainted. Onward:

We saw our midwife Sheryl again last week, and finally the neurotic first-time father in me melded with my often incessant (d.w. would probably call it "irritating") need to plan plan plan plan plan, creating a seething (though focused) ball of micro-managerial worry. It's not that I'm incapable of being spontaneous (or, more accurately, impulsive) you understand, but I need to have things laid out beforehand: if I decide that tomorrow it would be fun to take a road trip to Tierra del Fuego (wouldn't it though?), expect me to be up half the night memorizing every road, path, and llama trail between Panama and Patagonia.

Having a home birth has only increased exponentially the side of my brain tending toward hyper-preparedness, so our wonderfully patient midwife kindly bore the brunt of my neurotic babblings when all of a sudden the dam holding back the swirling waters of neurosis decided to crumble. What supplies do we need, and where should they be kept? How will you know if everything is going ok? What do I need to do, when do I need to do it, and where do I need to be?

These may sound like rather self-centered questions for me to be asking, considering I'm not the one who can't sit in restaurant booths anymore. But it's my blog. And besides, d.w. is quite capable of asking her own questions. She just doesn't seem to need to.

Cool as a cucumber, that one.

A great match for Sheryl, who must be the most laid-back midwife EVER. And how could she not be when she raises puppies? I mean, you think about babies all day and then go home to your puppies? Who would ever need therapy if you go home to a house full of puppies?

What I wanted to know more than anything was when during d.w.'s labor I should plan on calling her. She said she preferred to have the mother call, because she would know it was time to come over when all she heard on the other end was incoherent babbling.

"But what happens," I asked, "if the baby comes before you get there?"

"Simple," she said. "If the baby comes out that fast, it means everything went perfectly, and you'll get to hold him that much sooner. But every birth is different. It's impossible to predict what'll happen, so it's best to take it as it comes."

Not easy when the spontaneous, easy-going part of me is so quickly yielding to my soul's dark underbelly of organization and preparedness. What gives? I was never even a boy scout.

Comments

[Mom101]

I'm no expert (ooooobviously) but she sounds terrific! I think you're in great hands.

You're like me, finding it impossible to give up control over the one thing in life where you have none at all. Just trust that you're not the first to go through this - I found great comfort in that seemingly basic idea.

[samantha jo campen]

I am a planner. To a fault. So I can totally understand what you're going through. I will be in the throws of a meltdown come my (nowhere in the near future) due date, because I Won't Know When It's Coming. Good lord.

Glad the Midwife and D.W. are all chill.

Glad to have you back!!

[Henitsirk]

Midwives seem to be really good at being extremely calm, practical and positive thinkers. Just what's needed for mamas taken over by hormones and papas taken over by neuroses.

Your overwhelming need to plan and manage is just evidence that you love DW and the baby...and that you're obsessive. :)

[Her Bad Mother]

She sounds great and you're right, someone who has a deft hand with and love for puppies has the right stuff.

And you? You'll be fine. Embrace your inner boy scout, Just don't expect a badge.