|synaptic disunion|

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

waiting...

Don't quote us statistics. We're people, not numbers. Don't try to persuade us into something we do not want to do, we will refuse. Humans have been doing this for millennia, we've done this before a couple of times. Just be there. Be encouraging. Watch for warning signs and explain them to us, so that we can make decisions. Give us control over this, one of life's most precious moments. This will be our child, and we will not go so far as to allow harm. If we need you're assistance, we will ask. Just be there. Don't push us, let it happen. Please.

Those are the words, the kind ones, that I would have for our doctor at this point. Our baby is still in the womb, getting bigger and bigger. But the baby is still not as big as it's older brother was at birth. We're confident we can go through with the natural birth, and not succumb to the strong desire of the doctor to schedule a c-section. "But the only difference is the recovery time!" Those words rang like warning bells in my head. This guy doesn't understand emotion or trauma, it would seem, though I'm only judging by the vibes he gives off. I'm sure he's a competent doctor, I just hope he's a competent human being. What he says, though, is true. Physical recovery time, if all emotional stress is removed, is the only difference. If one looks at it through the microscope of cold hard unfeeling science, then that is, indeed, the only difference. If one takes the human element out of this, one of life's most human moments, then we are automatons reproducing by way of scheduled dates and machinery.

We have high hopes that we will do this. We will refuse anything less than natural, unless circumstances change more than at the moment. But until then, we wait.

We wait.

photo credit: slight clutter

Labels: baby

: toadman : at Wednesday, March 28, 2007 |