I've been spending a fair amount of time lately contemplating what Hedgehog's whole birth experience will look like.
When it comes to the birthing of the babies you've got to be flexible, because you never know what's going to pop up and how plans might need to change, so there's lots of options and contingencies and "what ifs" on the table.
There are some things I know without a doubt - I want to do everything in my power to avoid pain medications. I'm not too proud, or stupid, to ask for them if I need them, but I also know I don't like to give up control and I want as healthy an experience as possible for both Hedgehog and myself, and the best way to make that happen is to not take drugs.
But, when it comes to just what's going to relax me, or make me feel comfortable, or help me through the zone - the best I can do is come up with a bag of tricks to pull from and see what works at the time. I've got some good ideas of what might work, and am able to focus on how *I* relax, but really, ask me once the baby is born and I'll let you know.
There's one part of the equation that's been bewildering to me, however, and I finally figured it out today. When speaking of the calm, relaxing environment the often speak of dim lights and this dark, quiet room to help minimize the chaos and such. And I just didn't get it, didn't sound appealing to me.
You know why I didn't get it? Weight Watchers.
Once upon a time my mother was in Weight Watchers (sorry if I'm giving up your secrets, Mom), and on the version of Weight Watchers she was on at the time it was super-duper-critically important that you eat liver. Don't ask me, I'm just stating the facts. The problem with that is, my Mom *hates* liver. As do I. As, I think, does my brother (don't quote me on that one, but it's how I'm remembering things). So, we were being forced to eat a dinner that 3/4 of the family really, truly could not stand eating. My mom tried to psych us all out by dimming the lights and making it this really special meal. But you know what, even when it's dark and you can't see it, liver tastes like ass. And I am never, ever, in my entire life, going to forget that meal. Or going to eat liver again.
So, I think, perhaps, my mind has associated the dimming of the lights with trickery and deception, and that's why the idea of a dimly lit room is not high on my list of priorities. I want to face my problems head on.
And, since they keep the scary medical equipment well hidden in the rooms at the birth center, I think we'll be in good shape if we want to leave the lights on.
As long as the nurses don't try to serve me liver.
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