In Walks a Man

... in the shape of a man, wearing a hat-shaped hat. He holds up two fingers, says, "how many fingers?" and I say, "peace, man, that's where it's at."

Ani Difranco. Up, Up, Up. I listen to her music maybe twice a year or so but always end up with that song stuck in my head for weeks. I love the lyrics. That's the thing with Ani. Her music is odd. Bouncy. Chaotic. Strange. Her lyrics can be just as chaotic and polka-folka-ish weird, but she has a poet's voice that's hip and different, and her words hook me in every time despite the strange melodies of her songs.

My latest music obsession, though? Another guy/gal duo with the potential to eclipse my OTR obsession if you can imagine that. The Weepies. Where have I been? How can I call myself a folk music fan and just now be declaring my love for The Weepies? I don't know. But here I am, jumping on the Weepies bandwagon and lovin' the ride. See ya next year, fellow folk fans, over there in the next troubadour holler:

No amount of coffee
No amount of cryin'
No amount of whiskey
No amount of wine
No, no, no, no
Nothing else will do
I gotta have you...

Go listen here.

++++++++++

We had another ultrasound yesterday, attended by the whole family: Jeromy, Robey and me. The little opossum is still a boy, still snuggled up along the right side of my body and now weighing in at approximately 5 pounds, 9 ounces. That's above average, they say, so he'll be ready to come out soon. Probably mid-April.

We're scheduling a C-section for just after Easter. The C vs. VBAC choice was hard, but I'm glad to have had a choice. While I'm still not completely at peace with my final decision, I'm happy to have made it.

Thing is, with this choice, it's my body battling my mind. My mind says there are dozens of reasons why the C-section is safer, easier, more convenient, healthier for me and the baby, and so much more. But my body? It says, I'm preparing to birth this kid the old fashioned way. Vaginally. I have hips and heartaches and high notes that your head doesn't understand, and I want to push. Push. Push. Push.

So my head is trying to silence that voice. Or ignore it. Or maybe just apologize to it gently and tell it to save its hips and heartaches and high notes for some other occasion.

But really? I know there will be no other occasion quite the same as childbirth. How could there be? I know that my body will never get to exploit those pieces of itself designed for the soulful, ugly, beautiful, painful experience of giving birth. But is that really a loss? Or just some wild, primal instinct? Am I missing out on some elemental, female experience? Or saving myself from the brutality of a traumatic, primeval experience? I may never know. I'll just never know ...

Instead, our new little man in the shape of a man will slip right into our lives. The hospital staff will place a hat-shaped hat on his newly-shaped head. I'll be numb from the waist down and sewn back together without any screaming or cursing or sweating. Maybe, I'll hold up two fingers and say, "how many fingers?" and Jeromy will say, "peace, man, that's where it's at. Peace, man, that's where it's at."

Then? Then, I'll cradle that kid in my arms and sing:

No amount of coffee
No amount of cryin'
No amount of whiskey
No amount of wine
No no no no
Nothing else will do
I gotta have you...
I gotta have you...

Comments

[Sarah]

I've only had a c-section, so I sometimes wonder if I missed something too.

But then I look at The Squad and realize that the delivery part, while momentous, is a very small part of bring a mother.

[jen]

Sometimes we are oppisites and sometimes the same. I just heard the weepies today on XMRADIO- Cafe (kicks ass with the best non-label variety of music). They're G r e a t! They're on my mile-long list of cds to buy. We have connected on a musical level.
Then I heard Lucinda Williams "Get Right With God" then Wood Brothers "spirt" then Dave Matthews and even some Nirvana. This station could be classified as Music For 30-somethings.

[jen]

Save your pushing to go Run, Run, Runnin' with jen. Sometimes a religious experience, maybe painful, might make me laugh, cry, smile, yell out to nature, think I'll kiss the sky, hug God and Grandma as I-- RUNSWBIRDS.

There's enough female experience each month.

[Erin]

I can honestly say that once my kids were born, via c-sections, it did not matter anymore. ALL of those thoughts were gone.

[karen]

Hey, Ali- that's a five star post, that is!!! Made me cry.

You know, if you factor in the reason why you have chosen the c-section, it makes all the difference. You are preserving your life and that of the new babyboy from any harm. That's the best sign of a mother I can think of. You are sacrificing a primeval experience for the benefit of your family.

I think that's great.

PS- Why is it that all Jen's are running fools? I've always had a best friend named Jen (actually, I have three!!!). Crazy for fitness. All great gals. You've got a keeper, too.

Maybe I should name a girl Jennifer- if I am ever in the need of a girl's name again. I pray not, though. No offense, Jen LOL.