35 wks 2 days- The Labor of Canoeing

As we close the gap on our due date, the reality of delivering an actual term baby is setting in. One thing that scares me is the uncertainty. If I was preparing for a scheduled surgery or school exam, I would have a date to prepare for. However, I could go into labor today...or in five weeks. This has been the case for the past 15 weeks, but before the baby was small and my fear for his safety overshadowed my fear for my own comfort and safety.

Of course I also have a daunting fear of the pain. Over the past couple of weeks I have been woken in the middle of the night from a braxton hicks contraction and often wonder if that time it is the beginning of labor. The contraction subsides, but I am left awake and concerned about my capability to deal with what is to come. At least I am a relatively tough and extremely stubborn person. A prime example of this goes back to when I was a small child. Due to stellar genetics and a love of Coke I had a lot of cavities filled and I ALWAYS refused lidocaine, no matter what the Dentist or my parents said to try to change my mind. I felt that it was my fault I had a cavity, so I could deal with the pain of the drill...when I was in grade school.

As I got older, I grew into a wilderness tripper, which for the non-tripper could seem like a self-induced hell at times as well. Conversely, for the trippers among us, it is heaven. I love everything about tripping, the beauty, the adventures and the glory that comes at the end of the struggles. Sometimes that glory takes days or weeks to achieve, but it is always worth it. Whitewater paddling is an aspect of canoe tripping that scares me still, but in the beginning I was cripplingly scared of it as I was still learning the ways of the river, the power of the water and the devastating consequences of the slightest mistake.

One sunny, spring morning many years ago I sat in a canoe at the mouth of a river with my friend Rick who is an incredibly talented and technical paddler. I told him of my fears of the river. My friends in surrounding canoes looked purely excited to get on the water while I was unable to enjoy the day until I had successfully paddled the next set of rapids. I knew the lines we should paddle and the strokes I should make, but I was still so scared. He looked at me calmly and said something to the effect of, "Mali, no matter how long you have paddled, you should always have a healthy fear of the river. It is powerful and dangerous. When you are not scared anymore, that is when I would be worried. Your fear will always make you a better paddler, as you will be prepared for both the expected and unexpected to happen." I now paddle with all different partners, including Sean. We have dropped in our canoe over the dam at the whitewater course in Wausau and though I still feel the adrenaline, my fear is healthy and exciting, not crippling. I have evolved and grown, but I will never forget Rick's wise words and they echo in my mind as I fear both the known and unknown aspects of labor, delivery and parenthood.

This is at the "Paddle and Portage," crossing the isthmus in Madison. The capital is behind me.

Lucy portaging 

Portaging is one of the most physically challenging aspects of canoe tripping. That is when you carry your boat and all of your supplies over land from one body of water to another. Sometimes this is a short and well worn path, other times you must create your own path through trees, brush and dense forests and bogs. They can last for miles and even days before you reach water again. My friend Whitney wrote me a visualization she used through her birth experience comparing labor with portaging. It is beautifully worded and makes me feel empowered and more prepared for labor. All of you fellow trippers will be able to relate! She wrote:

"It's like a long portage. You have an 80 pound canoe on your head. There is a mosquito on your shoulder, right in that spot where you can't reach it. You can see it filling up with blood and can't do anything about it. 

You keep walking. 

You need a rest and look for a 'Y' in a tree branch and all you can see are the straightest telephone pole-like trees you have ever seen, so you keep walking. It starts to rain so more mosquitoes are joining you under the canoe to take cover. 

You keep walking.

Then you see it. That blue peeking through the trees. You can smell the water. You know if you walk just a little more, you will be able to toss that canoe off your shoulders and dive into the cold, mosquito-free water. The sweat and mud will be washed away and you might even get a piece of candy."

Thank you Whitney for that visualization. I don't know what labor will be like for me. I don't know how I will act nor how bitchy or demanding I will be. Will I cry? Vomit? Scream? Poop? (Yes, I guess we all know I will poop) But I do know that I can handle adversity and I have to enter into this next challenge with that knowledge in my back pocket. I am lucky for that.