The Difference One Year Makes

Today is my last official day of working, I need the time for myself, before the birth and before the Jewish holidays take over the country of Israel. I bumped into a friend of my father's from college, a man known to be an excellent pediatrician in Israel. He said that he would be happy to take us on as clients once the baby is born, and then pointed out, almost too casually, "You know you have another two weeks to go..."

I don't want to hear that, as I am not sleeping, have started heartburn in the last few days, and am actively experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions. I would like to think that the size of my belly is deceptive, even to the professionals, that it is easier to assume that a small stomach means that the baby will arrive late. My father, for whatever his instinct tells him long-distance, feels that I will give birth this Thursday, on the day that also happens to fall on his birthday and happily before the major holidays. I am happy to give him that birthday present!

I also had an acupuncture appointment this morning, different than the usual, in that she worked on pathways to the uterus, places which she had previously avoided. Acupuncture can take affect anywhere between 12 hours and three days, and I am looking forward to seeing the results.

I end today on a sad note, commemorating the life of Pilot Asaf Ramon, son of the Israeli pilot and NASA astronaut, Ilan Ramon. The 21 year old Israeli Air Force pilot was killed yesterday in his F-16, and all of Israel mourns for him, and for his family. It makes me think about the importance of family, of the connection between children and their parents, and it makes me want to meet my child even more.

Last year, on Yom Kippur, I had just experienced a severely painful miscarriage, and reacted in kind, both emotionally and physically. Beyond angry at G-d, the Greater Universe, and my body, all I did was fast, and refused to open myself to a word of prayer or understanding. How wonderful it can be one year later, as I await to meet my daughter, who will be born in this time of introspection.

My Husband's Boyfriend (NOT What you think...)

I went to the pool and gym today, one of the first times I was able to do so this week. I always find it strange that I can easily exercise on the treadmill for 25-30 minutes, I love the way the movement feels; and yet getting from my apartment to my parked car, or getting from the car to the gym seems like an eternity. Running feels great, normal errands only emphasize the weight of my stomach, and my reduced ability to walk at anything but a snail's pace.

I am hoping to continue to exercise carefully for at least some of the time before I give birth, though as with everything else, I take it day-to-day. Regardless of my desire to not feel like a blob, I gave up my locker at the gym today: I don't know how much longer I will be attending the gym, and even if I don't give birth for another two weeks, with all the Jewish holidays in between I won't be going daily. And I don't know how long I will be home after the birth itself, before I return to regular exercise outside the house, nor am I pushing myself before my body will give the signal that it is ready.

On the way out from the gym today, I bumped into my pool "spouse" with her boyfriend, Daniel; our "relationship" began several years ago for the purpose of getting a cheaper membership, and now we are friends. She introduced me to him, telling me that he knew the whole story and that she was quite proud to be the father of this child; and that I am the only woman she knows who got more fit and lost weight during pregnancy.

The closer I get to this birth, the more grateful I am to my friends, the warmth and support they have shown me throughout this process, especially because I don't have any real family in Israel, other than distant cousins. I wish for my child this love and friendship as well.

Like a Ripened Peach

Amazing how every person has an opinion about the pregnancy and the birth, whether solicited or not. While standing on line at the supermarket today, a random Israeli man told me that I was "definitely" having a boy, based upon the shape of my stomach. The ultra-sounds would suggest otherwise.

A patient this morning said that I was not yet ready to give birth because my face did not resemble that of a "ripened peach." I argued that since I am consistently losing weight - except in my stomach - it is likely that I will not get bloated before I give birth.

Another patient said that I was not yet ready to give birth because my belly hadn't dropped, and I pointed out that my mother did not drop for any of her children, and perhaps genetics is coming into play here.

A friend encouraged me that I could still give birth any time, despite the fact that the baby is quite active when I am not having Braxton Hicks contractions. "My baby was active until several hours before the birth."

I appreciate the intention behind all the helpful advice, and am trying to filter as much as possible, to maintain my excitement for labour. Not that I am a masochist, but I get to hold my healthy beautiful child after the discomfort, G-d Willing, and that makes all this worthwhile.

Michal and Yael, Their Newest Addition

I just returned from the Brit Milah of Michal (and Yael's) baby boy, welcome to the world Daniel Chaim! It was a typical and wonderful religious Sephardic affair, with plenty of food and moving customs, some of them more long-winded than others.

Michal's mother was glowing, her father was the Sandak (Godfather) of this beautiful little boy with the most intense and alert gaze I have ever seen. Michal's grandmother, who was supportive of her throughout the fertility and pregnancy process even when others in the family were not, held her great-grandson with obvious pride.

I felt badly for Yael, who is going to legitimately be the other parent of this baby. Because the family remains in complete denial regarding Michal's sexual orientation, Yael was not "allowed" to be wished a Mazal Tov, she was pushed to the back of the room so she could not watch the circumcision, and was ignored, despite the fact that she cried just as hard as Michal when the baby was welcomed into the Jewish community.

I am not a lesbian, and without addressing the issues of "alternative lifestyles," I still felt that Yael deserved better.

I cried as well, out of joy of course, for Michal and all that we two have been through on this journey to motherhood, for Michal and Yael who have become parents to Daniel, and for myself, in anticipation of my initiation into this club.

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

The bassinet has been assembled, the sheets have been laundered, and the car seat with its base have been installed in my car. I know that as ready as I feel, although I have a few more errands I would like to get done before the birth, I cannot truly anticipate the experience and transition into motherhood. But I feel like now that the baby has a place to sleep, she can come home, happy and healthy.

In order to take your baby, all you need is to show evidence of a car seat. If you are homeless and living on the street (G-d Forbid) but you produce a car seat, you may sign yourself and your new child out of the hospital. I believe this to be the law in most countries on the planet, and do think that there should be some investigation into the fitness of the parents and their environment, before you leave a child to the mercy of a random life.

I don't think I will read the Israeli weekend paper, because there seem to be all sorts of articles about single parents living in poverty and misery, or about the number of families who need financial assistance just to put food on the table, or celebrate the upcoming Jewish holidays. Without trying to remain naive and idealistic - I know that birth will involve some pain, and that raising a child is far from simple - I don't want or need to hear horror stories at the moment.

I am too excited, and grinning from ear to ear.

Trust Issues

Growing up, it was difficult for me to ask for help or express my needs. As an adult and outside the context of my immediate family, I have learned how to do that, and try to make myself clear at the moment, rather than bottling it up inside.

As I look towards the future of parenting this child, I have practiced this more and more, and along the way have been comforted by the many people who have extended themselves verbally to me, saying that they will be there for me and this child, that I can always ask for help, no matter what time of day.

Well, actions speak louder than words.

Several of the key people upon whom I have been relying as the birth gets closer have not only not been helping, but have made me feel that they cannot and will not make the time for me. There are only so many times when I can ask for assistance -and we are not talking about major projects here - and be ignored, or be told that it is simply not convenient for them.

Yes, I know that people have their own families and their own lives, but if you cannot follow through, don't offer in the first place.

Then there are my parents, who have very readily fallen into the role of potential guests in my house. They are meant to be coming to help me after the birth, but because I have spent my whole life being the psychologist and facilitator, the grown up in the house even as a child, they have left all the arrangements in my lap. I am contacting the travel agent and arranging for their lodging. I am sending them the list of their friends here in Israel, while they talk about what a wonderful vacation they will have when they come.

Here I thought that the breastfeeding, exhausted pregnant woman and their new grandchild would be the focus of this trip. But as my friend and acupuncturist reminded me today, I will only be disappointed if I have any expectations.

Let the Shopping Begin

I was speaking to a friend of mine yesterday, telling him that with less than three weeks left before my technical due date - I could even give birth before - I am working almost every day, though with slightly less intensity than I have in the past. After expressing concern for my physical well being, he said to me, "What are you doing with all that money?"

And the answer is this: I am spending it faster than I am making it.

In the last week, I have completed the down payment on the baby furniture package, so it can be delivered to the house at a moments notice. I have bought all sorts of little items that will be needed to make the baby's initial stay comfortable, until I figure out what I will really need on a day-to-day basis. I can now say with confidence that should a newborn's diaper need to be changed in my house, I have the supplies.

I don't resent the money spent on this child, and if in fact she were a teenager right now her eyes would be glowing with happiness at the amount and attention being spent on her.

My "To Do" list has significantly shrunk as well, with only several more key errands to run before I will feel like I am ready for this baby to arrive. But of course, as this pregnancy has taught me more than any other lesson in life, I do not control when she comes, and can only hope that she decides to be a good sleeper and a healthy eater. There are only two beings in the Universe who know her birth day, G-d and the child still growing inside me, and neither has sent me a telegram with specifics.