Apparently, I'm Crazy.

When I started training for the marathon this year, I knew that it would be hard. I knew that I would have to prepare myself physically and mentally for the challenge that I was choosing to put myself through. I knew that running a marathon is not something that many people in this country aspire to do, and I knew that people would think I was crazy for wanting it. During the months that I trained for the marathon, many of my friends and acquaintances told me things like, "You're crazy!" or "I have no idea how people do those!" or "Why would you even want to do that?".

Training for the marathon took a lot of research, planning, and time. I researched what would be the best kind of training plan, then I planned when and where I would do my runs, and I spent countless hours actually running the streets (and early on, the BYU indoor track) of Provo. From my previous experiences running cross country in high school and running two half marathons, I had learned the basics of running. To me, distance running is partly mental and partly physical. If I expect my body to perform, I need to put in the time and train it. If I expect that training to be worth anything, I need to teach my brain to push past the pain and trust my body to work the way I trained it to. I was so excited to run that marathon and get the "runner's high" and have that Herculean accomplishment under my belt. I fully expected to complete the marathon in Seattle in June, but then I got pregnant and my doc said no more distance running--plus, I felt like crap all the time for 4 months. I would have finished that marathon, had it not been for the unforseen complication of being pregnant.

Similarly, my goal with Charlie's birth is to have a natural and unmedicated birth, barring any unforseen complications. I have chosen this option for ideological as well as practical purposes, and I could write a whole blog entry about those reasons--maybe I will later. The point is that I think that preparing for and completing a marathon is a lot like preparing for and successfully having a natural birth. (This may sound silly, because I haven't completed a marathon yet and I haven't given birth yet, but I think the analogy still has a lot of merit.) 

In preparing for this natural childbirth, almost every person that I have talked to has said those same kinds of things: "Why would you even want to do that?!" or "What's your Plan B?" or a sarcastic "Good luck with that (you silly little unknowing first-timer implied)!" 

I am bugged by these comments. I am bugged that people seem to think that I can't do this. I am bugged that I find myself and now Greg making excuses for wanting a natural and unmedicated birth. In my silly little unknowing first-timer eyes, I see no reason why I can't stick with my awesome Plan A and give birth the way that I want to.

I know that having an unmedicated birth will be hard. I know that I will have to prepare myself physically and mentally for the challenge that I am choosing to put myself through. I know that natural childbirth is not something that many people in this country aspire to do, and I know that people think I am crazy for wanting it. But I'm trying to do all the preparation that I can. Early on in this pregnancy, I did a lot of research about my different birthing options, and after much study, I committed to natural childbirth. Since that commitment, I switched from an OB practice to a midwifery practice because I know that the midwives will support me in my desire to "go natural", and that they have the means to do so, unlike the OB that I was seeing before. Greg and I will be taking a natural childbirth class starting soon, and I have been doing my best to stay healthy and low-risk by eating healthy and exercising every day. As a woman, my body is designed to give birth this way. What remains for me is to educate myself as much as possible about how that design works, learn methods to cope with pain (shameless plug--distance running has taught me a couple methods), and then when the time comes I need to tell my brain to push past the pain and trust my body to work the way it has been designed and trained to. Then, when the labor is over, I can fully enjoy the "natural birth high" and bond with my new baby, having that Herculean accomplishment under my belt.

I admit that the marathon analogy breaks down a few times:

1. A marathon has pre-determined start and stop times. They really won't let you stay on the course that long. However, some women labor for 30 hours or more.
2. The pain of a marathon doesn't serve a real purpose; oppositely, the pain of labor serves to get your baby out.
3. When you finish a marathon, you get a great feeling of accomplishment, but you don't get a baby out of it. 

That's how I see it.