False starts

The thing an athlete in competition hates the most is when there is a false start. When someone beats the gun and explodes out of the blocks before he is supposed to. That causes the field of athletes to have to re-calibrate their concentration and go back down, psych themselves and start all over again. It ruins the concentration, it also tends to make the athlete more cautious and therefore less willing react instinctively, possibly compromising his own outcome in the race.

I hated false starts in my running career. It cost me a race once because my concentration was shot after the first false start and concentration is of utmost importance when the race involves crossing hurdles every 15m or so.

I hate false starts now too. I'm near enough to my due date that anything could happen at any time. My doctor jokingly told us that he expected to see us before our next appointment date. That made the both of us gasp because I don't think one can be so mentally prepared that the baby coming is met with nonchalance. And there have been nights when there are contractions that seem to lead somewhere, hurt enough for me to wince, whine, shudder and breathe as if I were in pilates class only to have them taper off after a few hours.

It is draining emotionally and psychologically because I'm always debating whether weathering the vise-like grip of the contraction or whether I should go to hospital. I decided not to the night before even though the contractions went on for a few hours and were painful enough for me to want to bang my head against the wall so that I had something else to do primarily because I had no other signs of an impending Muffin delivery and did not want to be sent home from hospital again.

But it has led me to feel frustrated and for the want of a better analogy, constipated. All the discomfort with nothing much to show for it.

A friend who has been supporting and encouraging me through all this has said that it is not nothing. It is in fact priming my body for the real thing and when the real thing comes along, at least I won't be shocked as to how much the damn thing can hurt.

Another friend has just delivered and has scared the beejeezus out of me with tales of how much it hurt despite the epidural.

Not a good thing to be listening to at this point I suspect.

I write all this in the throes of pain and discomfort and am uncertain if it is once again another false start. Stay tuned for further updates.


Technorati Tags: labour, delivery