Before I got pregnant with Weston, I was scared to death of the whole notion of giving birth. Images of women with their sweat-stained hair pasted to their red faces as they concentrated on expelling the contents of their womb did nothing to reassure me. I worried about nausea during pregnancy too. Nobody likes to throw up, but just the thought of vomit is enough to make me anxious. I’ve always been pretty vain too, so the thought of becoming huge and bulbous during those nine months of gestation filled me with anxiety too. Not surprisingly, I didn’t sleep so well the night I found out I was going to have my first child.
Flash forward about 8 months, and many of my fears had calmed or at least been replaced by new fears. Did I mention that I used to be a little high-strung? Instead of worrying about nausea, I worried that I would be totally incapable of dealing with a newborn. I no longer worried about becoming huge and bulbous. Instead I wondered how quickly I could lose the weight after giving birth. The one fear that remained unchanged was that of giving birth. Steve and I went through child-birth classes, and the information disseminated there went a long way towards making me feel more prepared though. So when the big day arrived, and Steve and I headed off to the hospital for my labor to be induced (2 weeks and one day past my due date (not that I was counting)), I was mostly feeling glad for the chance to face my big fear.
Many of you will want to kill me for saying this, but labor and deliver was really pretty easy for me. Labor was induced for both of my children, a few hours later I asked for a received my epidural, and until pushing time arrived; I was blissfully unaware of what was going on in