The Fear Creeps In Once-In-A-While

When we got pregnant it seemed so far away, the birth of our child, that its imminence didn't even matter--nine months is way too long of a time to anticipate anything but the now and just beyond. I'm starting to feel freaked out. It's not so much labor and delivery as how much I will be able to handle. I feel as though so much is unknown, so much is intangible. I can say "I want this and this and that for myself and our child," but aren't my wishes the wishes of every other woman out there? Who really says, "Oh please, give me an episiotomy. I've been hoping for one since day one."? I just feel like my well-meaning but squeamish husband, and my highly supportive but timid of offending mother are going to be no more capable of making my voice clear when I am unable to. I picture myself gasping in agony in a horrible smelling, noisy delivery room, in pain beyond all human comprehension, unable to breathe (let alone talk), scared, emotional, alone in what I'm feeling. I will look like E.T., dying all alone on that hospital gurney. Ugh. All I want is to know that I will be told that I am strong, that I can do this, that I'm not going to be forgotten amidst all the monitering and craziness. Will Greg be able to hold my hand? Will I be coherent when our son is finally put into my arms? Will I be able to say, "I don't want a c-section or episiotomy unless absolutely necessary." And then have someone actually listen to me? I feel like it's a lost cause right now. Someone give me hope for hospital delivery. I hate the sterility of a dentist office. I can't even imagine how a delivery room is going to feel to me.