Fear Factor

Last night I turned on the TV only to see an episode of "16 and Pregnant" on MTV. When I switched on the tube today during lunch, the same channel was playing "True Life: I'm Pregnant." I can't help but watch these shows because I relate to the people in them, but when I realized that the birthing scenes show the mother from the waist up, I couldn't help but wonder what else is going on.

A little while ago, I made the stupid decision to watch a birthing video on the Internet. I'm traumatized. I can get through "Silence of the Lambs" without flinching. I think the "Saw" movies are funny. But this was too much.

Without warning, the OB grabbed a pair of surgical scissors and gave this poor woman an episiotomy. If you know what that is, then you can sympathize with my terror. If you don't know what it is, trust me when I say ignorance is bliss.

I watched a few more videos that were much less graphic, which is to say the mother wasn't massacred by the doctor. Regardless, they were still intense. I used to ask myself, "How is THAT going to come out of THERE?!" I still don't have it all figured out, but I do realize it's not an easy process.

Now that I only have 12 weeks left in my pregnancy, the idea of giving birth is becoming a much more realistic concept to me. A couple months ago, it seemed like such a distant process. Now that I can tell the baby is getting cramped in there, childbirth is on my mind at least once a day. Sometimes, my mind wanders into Crazyland and I think, "What if I went into premature labor right now?" My baby is about 15 inches long and weighs a little over two pounds. She would be a gangly little thing, but she would probably make it.

The best thing about being this far along is that I am very clearly pregnant. For the longest time, I just looked like maybe I ate too much and was toting around a food baby. Not any more. I got plenty of stares today when I wobbled to class for a presentation. My group members and I had to dress up to present, so last night I tried on a modest pair of high-heeled shoes. They felt comfortable enough at the time while I stood in front of the mirror, so I wore them.

After standing on the hard tile floor in front of the entire class for about two minutes, I was horribly uncomfortable. Those little heels were not equipped to hold up my 20 added pregnancy pounds. That discomfort forced me to reckon with the fact that these are the big months, the heavy weeks. Baby girl is very thoroughly developed, and now her main job is putting on weight.

She scary part is that she currently only weighs about a third of what she will when I reach safe birthing territory. This belly is already an intense strain on the rest of my body. I'm loving my pregnancy, but the next 12 weeks make me nervous. I've rounded third base and I'm sliding toward home. Who wouldn't be nervous about that?

I'm very excited to meet this baby, but I would be lying if I said childbirth doesn't make me nervous. I know that in the grand scheme of my life, a day of labor pains will seem very small, but I've never done anything this physically intense in my life. I feel like I'm preparing to jump off a roof and just take off flying.

I have immense respect for the women in those videos, and I'm excited that some time in the next 12 weeks, I'll have a whole new respect for my own body and its capabilities. In the meantime, I'll be wearing flip-flops.