I'm officially in month 8, the home stretch.
So when I had my youngest daughter, I was impatient and miserably humungous. All I wished for was to see her in my arms, and not on the ultra sound screen. I'm getting that urge again but not as intense lol. I strongly regret being impatient with my body last time around so I'm reminding myself that the cake just ain't don't baking yet!
Our son has had more names than can fit on a driver's license but I think we've finally found the golden ticket. And because of my faith in manifesting my destiny, I won't share it with y'all until he hears it first haha! I know, I know...sorry but it must be that way.
Lately, although my true intentions are to let my labor come naturally, I've been researching how to help myself out a lil bit at home. Squats, pineapples, grown folk activities, etc...squats have been the most humorous of course because my proportions are a lil off but I'm banking on that to get the job done.
Its mid/end of October in Florida...ain't no pineapples bih...not really putting all my faith in fueling my tank with pineapples because I genuinely don't have a desire to search for pineapples right now. I barely feel like finding a bra these days!
The more I research, the more I start to wonder...are these methods the cause of labor or is it the desire to go into labor that pushed these ladies to the "finish line"...ya know, did they manifest labor or if I do (x) amount of squats, ill push out my new baby? I'm just sayingg...I'd rather just believe really hard that I can fly instead of trying to jump towards the sun with wax wings.
The main reason I'm eager to have more control of my labor really lies in my daily routine. I want to go into labor at home, at around 7:00pm or 5:00am. That way, my man is there with me.
I'm confident that once I freak out or panic or become in pain, someone of responsible legal driving age can carry me down my stairs and get me to the hospital.
I'm not tryna be in a fucking safety meeting eating turkey pinwheels with my manager when my water breaks. Plus, I'll have to explain my medical details to my coworkers and we'll all be forced to be closer than I actually ever really wanted to be. If you help me deliver my baby, we're either awkwardly never speaking again or you'll be expecting to be my kid's godparent...not too keen on either direction this event could go.
I don't want to be driving home on the bridge in traffic, at the daycare picking up my 4 yr old, in Walmart...oh God, please no. Not Walmart - grossssss.
I want to be comfortable, and protected by my support system, Jumbo. My mom or dad wouldn't be a bad second choice to be around since they kinda know what to do but damn...it's been a while since either of them had to deal with labor. Plus, my dad legit hyperventilated each time he was in a delivery room. Which is fine now that I think about it...as long as we get to the delivery room prior to the hyperventilation lmao
I've been cleaning my room and home accordingly since I don't know when baby boy will arrive. I know people will be in my house shortly after his birth and I'll want to bring him into a clean space with a nice flow of "The Vibes". No need to bring him into a cluttered environment, that will be subconsciously stressful I would think.
Aside from the cleaning flu, I'm starting to give less fucks about the world around me. Not in a air-headed way but if it ain't my business or doesn't involve effort or action from me, I'm not tryna hear about it and I'm very vocal about that lol.
I don't necessarily like that I'm annoyed easily these days but I'm not ashamed either! I mean, I got other shit going on, that's all...like manifesting my labor to occur in my bed at 5:00am or 7:00pm, cooking dinner, folding laundry (my new favorite hobby), paying my bills, keeping my birthing area fresh and prepped for it's debut, avoiding heartburn, squatting, finding affordable pineapples, popping black heads and plucking chin hairs, powdering my new (natural) large tittays...all kinds of pertinent shit that falls in the "Das My Business" category...emphasis on MY.
I'm hoping to be in the mindset to record my labor from water breaking to baby meeting. I've never done that and would like to have some evidence to remind myself on my low days that I'm a strong mother shutchyomouth.
A mother hen in a lion's den type shit.
Until next week,
xo deena
So when I had my youngest daughter, I was impatient and miserably humungous. All I wished for was to see her in my arms, and not on the ultra sound screen. I'm getting that urge again but not as intense lol. I strongly regret being impatient with my body last time around so I'm reminding myself that the cake just ain't don't baking yet!
Our son has had more names than can fit on a driver's license but I think we've finally found the golden ticket. And because of my faith in manifesting my destiny, I won't share it with y'all until he hears it first haha! I know, I know...sorry but it must be that way.
Lately, although my true intentions are to let my labor come naturally, I've been researching how to help myself out a lil bit at home. Squats, pineapples, grown folk activities, etc...squats have been the most humorous of course because my proportions are a lil off but I'm banking on that to get the job done.
Its mid/end of October in Florida...ain't no pineapples bih...not really putting all my faith in fueling my tank with pineapples because I genuinely don't have a desire to search for pineapples right now. I barely feel like finding a bra these days!
The more I research, the more I start to wonder...are these methods the cause of labor or is it the desire to go into labor that pushed these ladies to the "finish line"...ya know, did they manifest labor or if I do (x) amount of squats, ill push out my new baby? I'm just sayingg...I'd rather just believe really hard that I can fly instead of trying to jump towards the sun with wax wings.
The main reason I'm eager to have more control of my labor really lies in my daily routine. I want to go into labor at home, at around 7:00pm or 5:00am. That way, my man is there with me.
I'm confident that once I freak out or panic or become in pain, someone of responsible legal driving age can carry me down my stairs and get me to the hospital.
I'm not tryna be in a fucking safety meeting eating turkey pinwheels with my manager when my water breaks. Plus, I'll have to explain my medical details to my coworkers and we'll all be forced to be closer than I actually ever really wanted to be. If you help me deliver my baby, we're either awkwardly never speaking again or you'll be expecting to be my kid's godparent...not too keen on either direction this event could go.
I don't want to be driving home on the bridge in traffic, at the daycare picking up my 4 yr old, in Walmart...oh God, please no. Not Walmart - grossssss.
I want to be comfortable, and protected by my support system, Jumbo. My mom or dad wouldn't be a bad second choice to be around since they kinda know what to do but damn...it's been a while since either of them had to deal with labor. Plus, my dad legit hyperventilated each time he was in a delivery room. Which is fine now that I think about it...as long as we get to the delivery room prior to the hyperventilation lmao
I've been cleaning my room and home accordingly since I don't know when baby boy will arrive. I know people will be in my house shortly after his birth and I'll want to bring him into a clean space with a nice flow of "The Vibes". No need to bring him into a cluttered environment, that will be subconsciously stressful I would think.
Aside from the cleaning flu, I'm starting to give less fucks about the world around me. Not in a air-headed way but if it ain't my business or doesn't involve effort or action from me, I'm not tryna hear about it and I'm very vocal about that lol.
I don't necessarily like that I'm annoyed easily these days but I'm not ashamed either! I mean, I got other shit going on, that's all...like manifesting my labor to occur in my bed at 5:00am or 7:00pm, cooking dinner, folding laundry (my new favorite hobby), paying my bills, keeping my birthing area fresh and prepped for it's debut, avoiding heartburn, squatting, finding affordable pineapples, popping black heads and plucking chin hairs, powdering my new (natural) large tittays...all kinds of pertinent shit that falls in the "Das My Business" category...emphasis on MY.
I'm hoping to be in the mindset to record my labor from water breaking to baby meeting. I've never done that and would like to have some evidence to remind myself on my low days that I'm a strong mother shutchyomouth.
A mother hen in a lion's den type shit.
Until next week,
xo deena
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