Labor in reverse

So, another event goes down in the books. Despite my fear of forgetting something huge, or some unforeseen calamity occurring, everything went swimmingly, and today I feel terrific. This story would be dramatically different had you talked to me Friday night, however.

It's a natural analogy to compare running an event or any kind of production to birthing a baby. But it is kind of in reverse - starts off intense and like a steamroller out of control, then slowly gets easier and ends quietly. And after fifteen of these events, we're really down to just the minutiae - tiny little tweaks and details to make everything run perfectly. It's a far cry from the early days when I used to make huge mistakes and was such a ball of stress I couldn't eat or sleep for days.

The only thing other than the usual stressors that got me this year was Bumpus started to get sick - crusty eyes, coughing, hacking, labored breathing. I chalked it up to air conditioning and bad re-circulated hotel air quality that makes us all sound like Brenda Vacarro by the end of the weekend, but I wasn't sure. By the end of Friday I was so stressed out and convinced he was in trouble that I just lost it and started crying my eyes out - I could picture taking him to an emergency room in the middle of the night, him not being able to breathe, basically every parent's nightmare. But as my Doula Friend who was the weekend babysitter pointed out, he was still smiling and happy, not listless, and no fever. My hotel contact ran out and got a humidifier for me which I used that night, and he seemed to
improve. Also as the days went on it was clear he had not in fact contracted some virus and was not developing pneumonia or anything like that.

But here I was, dealing with uptight and intense dance competitors freaking out over every little thing - where are the pins for our bib numbers? My partner is going to be late, can we go in the last heat? What are the song tempos going to be like? And being so worried about the baby, all I could think was, "fuck off! I have a sick baby on my hands! I just want everyone to go away so I can breastfeed my baby and comfort him!"

It was challenging having a small baby during the event, for sure - and I definitely couldn't have done it without all the help. The whole time I couldn't help but think, "it's so weird, he'll never be a little baby during the event ever again!" By the next event he'll be 1 1/2 years old and into everything - but not breastfeeding, and probably with a bedtime and not waking up every couple of hours, which will be so different from this year, which was all about rationing the pumped breast milk (I didn't have enough - no surprises there), wearing breastfeeding-friendly dresses, and not getting ANY sleep. Next year there will be a whole new set of challenges.

So after Friday night's freak out, the rest of the event was all downhill as it always is. I haven't processed the credit cards so I don't know where I stand financially yet, but I am feeling pretty optimistic.

And now I get to enjoy a year of being with the Bumpus all day, every day. A few days of intense stress and risk is a small price to pay for that payoff, really.