Every morning that I go to work (and I've been there a lot lately) I make the walk from the parking garage over to the surgery center. Every time I take that walk, I pass the childbirth center on my way. Sometimes, I allow myself to do a little daydreaming.
I think about what it would be like to drive up the childbirth center in labor at 40 weeks, park the car, and hurry in. We might forget a few things because we are too excited or nervous. It might be the middle of the night and I have my scary hair. We will call our family and tell them "it's time" and maybe this time our voices will be full of excitement instead of fear.
I frequently see people out in the parking lot chatting. I like to think they are family members waiting for the arrival of a new little life. I think about how I want the first moments to be ours as a little family and then to share our boy with the rest of our family and friends. They will get to hold the baby instead of looking at him sprawled out on a bed with lots of wires and tubes and machines. I will hopefully get to hold my baby instead of having to wait to go see him and even then being so out of it that I couldn't really take it in. There will be joy instead of tears (maybe a few happy tears).
Of course right behind the childbirth center is the helicopter. The one that has taken a few of my friends down to Seattle to deliver babies. Thankfully, I never had to ride in it, but I know what it means. Just sitting back there like a little reminder. However, in my daydreams I like to think about how maybe, just maybe, it will go the way that we want. The fears are still there, but sometimes I like to ignore them and think about how happy things could be, at least in my daydreams and hopefully in real life.