36 weeks and counting

I saw the midwife again today. This time I met with Vanessa, the newest midwife in the group, who is still completing her training. She has to deliver 100 babies with other midwives' supervision before she's allowed to deliver any unsupervised. She's about half way through, I think. Anyway, she's young and disarming and immediately likeable.

Zurg is measuring average and right on schedule. He favors the left side and has several boney bits that favor the right side. That's where all the action in these days. Vanessa was audibly surprised by the length of my torso. I've never actually measured it against other women's torsos, nor seen a percentile chart for torso length, but she confirmed what I have suspected for a long time: I have a longish torso. I hate clothes shopping for several reasons, and shirt length is one of them.

Vanessa also said something quite profound that I've been mulling over ever since. I was telling her about all my "new" physical woes from this pregnancy, trying to keep upbeat about it, but honest. She nodded her head and said in all loving seriousness, "Yeah, the first child tends to prime the pump. That's the life of the second child: always dealing with the path the first one has laid down." Suddenly, I saw baby Zurg in a whole new light. Was it pity? A little. Alice is a tough act to follow ("If he's not freakishly obedient and absurdly responsible, I just don't know what I'll do with the child!"). No, it was more like camaraderie. I know what it's like to have older siblings lay a path long before you ever start making choices. Suddenly, I felt like he was on my team! Maybe the boy and I have more in common than I thought :)

The most striking part of this encounter with the midwife, however, was the insight I gained as a parent: Alice and Zurg are inextricably connected. Here I was, secretly holding Zurg responsible for any little hiccup or twinge that seemed different from my memory of Alice in utero, when it was Alice's presence in the first place that made all these hiccups and twinges possible. There is no line where Alice ends and Zurg starts. They are distinct individuals but completely intertwined as siblings: sharing time, space, and family. They will share memories. They will learn from each other. Zurg will never know the difference, and Alice may never remember it. Why did I never see this before? How could I grow up in a house full of people and never feel inextricably connected to them, forever influenced by them? I see now that I have always been connected and influenced by my siblings, but it just wasn't obvious enough for me to recognize outright.

Why do I keep trying to make Alice and Zurg mutually exclusive beings? If you've read this blog much the last 8 months, you know this is a topic I revisit often. I think this young and disarming midwife stumbled upon the root of my parental anxiety: it's impossible to keep siblings mutually exclusive. What a terrifying thought! I tend to be most comfortable in situations where I can focus on one person almost exclusively (be it friendship or dating or parenthood). I tend to take people one at a time. Can I be a one-at-a-time mom to two kids? How does that work? It's hard enough on weekends being a mom AND a spouse AND an individual. I haven't learned to handle that very well...just ask Bobby :) Weekends can be pretty rough on me.

I get the feeling this is something that can't/won't be resolved until I see it in practice.

*sigh*

At least Alice has it all figured out. When she's divvying markers or treats or game pieces, she gives me two. One for me and one for Baby Zurg. She counts four people in our family, every time. He's as real as real can be to her. He laughs at her silly antics and he's always saying something silly back. He's probably a lot more fun now than he will be the first few months after his official birthday. That's sure to disappoint her. Then again, I may be the surprised one in the end. I'm getting surprised a lot these days.

That reminds me. When Alice goes through a clumsy phase where she's tripping and stumbling a lot, I tell her that's a sure sign that her body is growing. Her interpretation: "Bonks make me grow!" Perhaps all these surprises and emotional snags are part of my own growing process, eh?