I’m 33 years old and I still expect life to be fair, even though its revealed redundantly that life is anything but. It never ceases to amaze me that it never ceases to amaze me.

Shouldn’t I be jaded by now? Wouldn’t I feel less frustration if I would just accept that things don’t always get wrapped up in a bow and closure is a pop culture Santa Claus?

Maybe. But.

I will go out believing, bitches.

I don’t look back regretting the times I looked stupidly into the light of optimism, even on the occasions that it blinded me.

Children do it with blocks - build towers, then smash them. Never to consider whether the next building will be better or not, the process of building and analyzing the creation is the incentive… and they need the blocks back to do it all again. Nature manifests this through disasters, humans find infinite ways. 

It’s important to remember that with all destruction comes an opportunity to use what you’re left with to put something more sound in its place. Rebuilding should be done with inspiration and responsibility. 

Make it better. Make it less destructible. Save it from yourself.

Now that I’m 38 weeks along and almost entirely through the pregnancy, I’ve got some words for those who had things to say to me early on:

“Ha. You *think* you’re going to be able to work through the whole pregnancy because you’ve never been pregnant before. Good luck with that.”

I’m 38 weeks and still going strong. Still working. FOR MYSELF. Managed to find clients FOR MYSELF and gotten my stuff done on time and to the same high standards as always. Because the rent still comes due like clockwork and the baby needs things. It’s been HARD. I’ve never been so exhausted: physically, mentally, emotionally… everything is strained, from purse to perspective. There’s no maternity leave for freelancers, entrepreneurs, startups… But I get up every day and I GET IT DONE. SOMEHOW. So yeah, what did YOU do with YOUR week?

“Sorry but if you’re on state insurance you’re not exactly ‘doing it yourself’, are you…”

This one was left as a comment on the blog post I wrote at the beginning of all this. And: Yes, bitch. I have paid my share of taxes in 3 different states for 18 years and feel completely comfortable with getting healthcare covered through my pregnancy. I have STAYED working: for MYSELF. I have paid for, BY MYSELF: the babys clothes, crib, dresser, rug, diapers, toiletries, toys, tub, bookcase, nightlight, stroller, blankets etc etc etc. I have been LUCKY enough to have AMAZING friends that have sent gifts from my registry, donated hand me downs, and been generally awesome. But I wake up with swollen feet and an aching back, alone, and march on, alone. Cope with my fears and ailments and the baby being breech and procedures and ALL of it alone. I’m getting every single thing done every day by myself, without physical or financial help from anyone. Supportive friends are a blessing but they aren’t there with you, they aren’t cooking for you, they aren’t doing your floors or paying your bills. So am I not “doing it on my own” because I’m getting my health care covered? What the hell is wrong with you? The baby’s “father” has, to this day, still not been in touch and still not done ANYTHING WHATSOEVER to help. 

I’ve done this ON. MY. OWN.

Why does that scare you?

Last Friday at my now-weekly doctors visit I found out that the baby was in a breech position. This was incredibly upsetting because my plan has been to avoid a C-section at all costs and have this baby as naturally as possible. It might sound crazy, but I want to be IN the human experience of having a child. To experience all of it, including the pain… knowing and proving to myself that I am capable, that I can handle it. I’ll need to draw on that strength moving forward…

Yesterday I spent upwards of 6 hours in the hospital for a procedure that attempts to turn the baby into the right position. It’s called an External Cephalic Version. My doctor told me I would feel “mild discomfort”. That was a boldfaced lie. It was excruciatingly painful because I didn’t want to get a spinal. At first I tried going through it without any meds at all, but I had to keep asking them to stop because I couldn’t handle it. So they gave me a mild sedative which more distracted me from the pain than stopped the pain from hitting me. 

An ECV has about a 50/50 chance of being successful. And there’s a 5% chance that the baby will turn BACK even after a successful attempt. Thankfully, yesterday for us was a SUCCESS! We’re strong girls. :) I’m about to leave for my regular weekly appointment and hopefully they will tell me she’s stayed put. 

I texted whats-his-face to let him know about the complications. I felt it was the right thing to do. He ignored it. You see I’m clearly here to tell the tale and so did not die of shock.

Countdown to due date: 21 days.

Update: She stayed! :)