I find it ironic that "full term" falls on an odd week, as we all know my hang ups with the "odd weeks" of pregnancy. In three (or less) weeks, I will be holding our son. He can show up any time he wants. The car is scrubbed. The bags are packed. The car seat will go into this weekend after the people at the car seat clinic show us how to hook it up.
At the doctor's last week I had to have a procedure that my very good friend Jamie and I like to refer to as, "The Great Bung Hole Swabbing of 2012." Now's the time for the squeamish to look away (or perhaps find a new blog to read.) Essentially it tests for a type of Strep virus that can make your baby very sick upon exit. 30% of American women test positive for this, and the result is being given antibiotics in labor. No biggie.
So of course this is the only week until the end of the pregnancy that my Handsome Husband can make it to my appointment. And of course this is the week where the midwife intern is doing all the dirty stuff for the actual midwife. And of course this is also the week where the put me into the broom closet turn examination room. So I go in and they tell me to robe up, which is fine. Right? It's fine. Except my husband is sitting right there. And the room is so small that there's nowhere for him to go.
-"Would you like to turn around while I undress?"
"Are you serious?"
-"Yes, I'm just nervous to undress in front of you."
"Do DO know how that baby got in there, right?"
-"Yes, I just feel awkward."
I did what I needed to do, quickly put the piece of purple paper over my lap, and sat on the table again. The lady learning to be a midwife came in and after a detailed description of what's involved in said swabbing, she went about her task. And of course my husband was on the business end of that endeavor because the room IS THE SIZE OF A POSTAGE STAMP.
As I was redressing I asked:
-"Did you look away?"
"Yes, I looked away."
-"Good, because that was very awkward."
"You do know what I'm going to watch coming out of that vicinity in a few weeks, right?"
-"That's going to be different. That will be our son. This was a bung hole swab."
The moral of the story is...well. There's no moral. It was awkward. It got me thinking all sorts of thoughts about how I'm going to most likely be naked when birthing our son, and there are going to be lots of nurses around and my husband and how I didn't think I was an overly modest person, but it turns out I might be. I wonder why God chose such a way to have life come into the world? Probably because man was created with no inhibitions- they were all naked in the beginning.
In the meantime, happy 37 weeks to me and my husband and my son. I'm thankful for every moment of this pregnancy. I'm thankful for the bad times, the puking, the arguments in the beginning that I now see were just out of sheer terror of what was happening. The reality of it all... I'm thankful for the good times, the "it's a boy" times, the first kicks and the milestones of imagining his creation in my belly. And I've tried to be thankful all along, but it's hard. But it's worth it.