Go Time

Just a quick post to let all interested parties know that the baby has not arrived yet. The doctors will induce early tomorrow morning, so we may have a long day ahead of us. I'm now at a place where I have internet access, and I'll post the details as soon as a can. Lots of good thoughts and prayers will be appreciated. More soon!

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12am

It’s late, and I should be sleeping so I will have the energy necessary to be useful tomorrow, but it’s really difficult to settle down. We have to leave Lahaina at 6am (after a call-in to make sure it’s a go) to arrive at the hospital for Molly’s check-in time at 7am. Right now, this girl who can barely get in to work by 9:30am is having trouble imagining dragging herself out of bed at that hour, but it’s what I must do. The only thing that could prevent us going is if the hospital is already full of women in labor, and that sounds pretty unlikely.

Although the tiny sensible part of my brain knows I should be sleeping, the overly excited, childlike heap is in full party mode. My little thoughts are swirling in my head, invading every corner. Sleep is not an option. I’m hoping that writing will help quiet the mind.

Tomorrow I will meet my nephew! I cannot wait! More mind boggling is that my sister will meet her son. And, I will be participating in the process. The process is what makes me a little nervous right now. Okay, very nervous. When Molly told me she was pregnant in January, my protective side pushed through my shock, and I immediately offered to be with her during the delivery. I knew it would most likely be difficult for my mom or other sister to make it at the right time, and I felt that I could offer her familiarity and security (and maybe a little humor) in a completely foreign and intense situation.

While I imagine myself as the ultra-supportive, nurturing big sister who knows exactly the right thing to do each step of the way, the fear sector of my brain suggests that maybe I’m not the best fit for this position. Yes, there will be moments of pure joy, warmth, and overwhelming gratitude, but I’ve also heard that things can get pretty painful, testy, and messy. Having never gone through this myself, how do I know what to expect and how I’ll react? I’m not exactly one of those people who pauses while channel surfing to watch the “fascinating” face reattachment surgery on Discovery. Uh-uh. I either cruise on by as quickly as I can and hope I forget what I saw, or, if I’ve seen too much, I cover my eyes with a pillow, take deep breaths, and blindly search for something suitably distracting to erase the image – like Wheel of Fortune. I’ve had to put my head between my knees to avoid passing out after watching something medically graphic on TV, and one word always comes to mind when I see videos or pictures of birth. Unnatural.

My squeamishness aside, I am afraid that I won’t actually know what to do, and possibly nothing I try will succeed in helping my sister through what could be a very trying ordeal. Maybe I won’t know how to support her and Joe if they have to make tough decisions about how to proceed. Maybe I will get tired and cranky and do or say the wrong things. Maybe my unpracticed massage techniques will stink. Maybe I won’t have half the strength that she undoubtedly does to bring this boy into the world, and all I’ll be useful for is my DJ duties. I just don’t know.

For now, I’m as ready as I can be. My alarm is set, and my backpack full of my CD selections and other delivery room necessities is waiting by the door for our pre-dawn departure. I just need to relax and rest. I think I’m going to have to trust that this is meant to be and I will know what to do in the moment. Staying by Molly’s head, away from the action, may be best for all. Hopefully, my presence alone will help make things a little bit easier for her, and whatever I can offer and do on top of that will be enough. I’ll give it my all.