Well, technically 40 weeks and 6 days. That’s right, I’ll be 41 weeks tomorrow!
I had so much false hope this week–nights full of hardcore contractions, losing bits of my mucus plug on the reg (yeah, I know it doesn’t really indicate anything, but I needed something to hang my hat on–not literally, of course) and pelvic pain/cramping. I thought surely labor was right around every corner. WRONG. The baby continues to dilly-dally and mess with me. I think I’m housing a real shady character in my womb.
So David and I went to my 7:45 a.m. appointment today. No weight change at this point. Blood pressure was 124/70. The nurse tried to check the baby’s heart rate…and she tried…and she tried again. It felt like she tried for an eternity and was coming up with nothing. I wanted to sit up and shake her and tell her to find that goddamn heartbeat. But clearly I am not that spry at this point. She finally found the heartbeat and it was 125 bpm. She asked if I wanted to be checked and I told her I really didn’t but would talk it over with the midwife. She left me with the sheet to put around my bottom because she said since I was overdue, she recommended it. Once she left, David set about helping me put my sheet skirt on. We both got the giggles so bad because I just started undressing and he was like, “Uh…why are you taking all your clothes off?” Since I haven’t been getting checked, I’m not used to taking off anything. And the only time I disrobe at the ob/gyn is for my annual checkup, when you do have to take it all off. Not to mention, I’ve been getting massages for months now and always have to strip down to my panties. So we had to compose ourselves because I was about to get completely nude and throw a sheet on, which I’m sure would have perplexed the midwife.
Once I had put my shirt back on and my sheet skirt wrapped around me (and we had laughed some more over how ridiculous I am), the midwife came in and it was clear we were going to have to discuss things. Let’s be honest, the elephant in the room (other than me) is that I have a baby in me that’s a week overdue. She very quickly got down to brass tacks. She told me I had to have an ultrasound today to check my amniotic fluid. If it was low, I’d have to go into the hospital today for induction but if it was okay, then she would let me go through the weekend as I desired and then I could come back Monday. I also asked that I not be checked until Monday either and she was fine with that.
So what happens if I don’t have the baby over the weekend? I go back on Monday for some membrane stripping. There is no guarantee that will work. They will probably do that a few times over the course of a few days. If I’m still pregnant on Thursday, I’ll have to go to the hospital that night where they will give me the dreaded Cytotec if I’m not dilated to 3 cm. If I am dilated more than 3 cm, they will do Pitocin, but only enough to try to give my body a push to continue doing the job on its own. Obviously, I don’t want ANY of that, but clearly I will do whatever is best for the baby. Frankly, I think they should cut the baby some slack, but they don’t let patients go past 42 weeks.
I’m hoping I go into labor on my own this weekend. The midwife prescribed using the breast pump twice per day for 20 minutes and also sex (no getting up for 20 minutes afterward). I told her I really wasn’t in the mood and she told me this wasn’t for fun, but to avoid being induced. I was trying to remember everything she told me, so I said aloud, “Okay. So sex for 20 minutes twice per day–wait. No, that can’t be right. I should write this down.” She told me not to worry about writing any of it down because these orders consisted of boobs and sex, so she was pretty confident David would remember everything. She said to continue drinking my red raspberry leaf tea (which I’ve been drinking to beat the band for months) and hopefully the combo of all these things would work in the next couple of days.
The ultrasound showed everything is fine in there. The baby is just hanging out, moving around a lot, with its head down low. The ultrasound predicts an 8 lb, 15 oz baby. Goddang! There goes my bottom. Of course, that’s just an estimate. Let’s hope the baby isn’t bigger than that! We saw the baby’s little face–he or she looks very cute. The tech tried to see if the baby has hair but it was hard to tell. She said it didn’t really look like it, though. I guess David’s prediction is correct–I’ve been picturing a baby with a lot of hair (like me when I was born) and he has been picturing a bald baby (like him when he was born). At this point, I don’t care if the baby comes out wearing a tiny fedora, I just want the baby here!
I figured it out today. Baby is sitting tight out of respect for the animals in the household. Today is Bella’s second birthday and the baby doesn’t want Bella to miss out on her special day. Furthermore, Jobean has been on antibiotics for a few weeks. About a week ago, the vet switched him to a different kind, one that involves me giving him one pill in the morning and one pill at night. After today, he has three days left. I think the baby understands that I am the only person on Earth who is able to give a pill to this 16-pound cat who possesses the strength of ten men. It would fret me to no end if I went into labor and had to miss a day of giving my big boy his medicine!
Today I am 40 weeks, 4 days pregnant. I woke up feeling pretty good. I was really looking forward to my massage and adjustment at the chiropractor’s. As usual, my appointment was great and I left the office feeling fab. I got in the car and all I could think about was a gigantic cherry limeade. I wasn’t sure which Sonic I wanted to go to and that’s where I made a decision that really affected my good spirits. I decided to not backtrack and go to the one on Coursey but to hit the one on Perkins instead. I then decided that was silly because the one on Coursey was closer and so what if I had to make a couple of u-turns to get there (such is the nature of Coursey if you want to go anywhere on that stupid street!)? So I made my first u-turn without incident. When it came time to make the second one, there were a couple of other cars in the median waiting along with me (again, such is the nature of Coursey).
Well, all of a sudden the woman in the car next to me starts honking and screaming at me that she gets to GO FIRST!!!!! and that she CAN’T SEE THE CARS COMING!!!!!!!! She was seriously going bananas. I shouted back at her that I wasn’t trying to go ahead of her. She kept screaming that she couldn’t see around me. So finally I did what any woman 40 weeks and 4 days pregnant would do–I lost my temper, told her to calm the fuck down and called her a fat bitch (unoriginal, I know). Finally, I just went and then turned into Sonic, eager to seek respite in my cherry limeade. Then something happened I was not counting on. She followed me to Sonic. And what kind of person does that? A crazy one, that’s who.
So as I’m about to press the button to place my order, I see this insane woman marching over to my car. I immediately put up the window and lock the doors. She comes up to my window and she has a notepad in her hand. She starts screaming I’M GOING TO HAVE YOU ARRESTED FOR SLANDER!!! I kind of laughed in surprise and told her I didn’t think she understood what slander meant and that she couldn’t have me arrested for calling her a name. She started spouting more crazy and at this point I just ignored her and dialed 911 on my phone and held it up to her, hoping she would go away. But no. She said, “Call the police. They will arrest you for SLANDER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” So I called them. As I was talking to the dispatcher, crazy lady was getting extremely agitated and writing furiously on her notepad. She slammed the notepad up against my window to show me her note. It read “DID YOU TELL THEM YOU CALLED ME A FAT BITCH?” I had indeed. But I ignored her as I continued to explain the situation to the dispatcher. The woman I spoke with told me to sit tight and that calling someone a name was not illegal, but stalking someone was and that I had done the right thing by calling.
At this point, with the fat bitch standing right outside my window, I began to get a little upset. What was wrong with this person? Who does this kind of thing? I called David and he was livid. He immediately left work (he was only a few blocks away) even though I told him not to. I told him to please not try to talk to this woman because she was nuts and I didn’t want her to do something crazy to him. But he arrived and did try to talk to her. She informed him I had called her a name. He told her to get over it. She told him she was going to have me arrested for calling her a name. At this point, a sheriff deputy arrives. I tell David to go ahead and go meet the person he was supposed to be meeting for lunch. He talks a bit with the po-po and it is pretty clear the deputy thinks the woman is crazy too. David leaves and then another sheriff deputy arrives and I see him talking to her. He comes over to me and has a look in his eye that basically translates to “You poor, hugely pregnant woman. I am in disbelief over this nutjob taunting you.” He tells me I didn’t do anything illegal (duh). I apologize to him and tell him I am certain there are more important things going on in EBR but that I just don’t trust someone who is crazy enough to follow me to Sonic. He agrees and tells me she won’t be bothering me anymore. So I left, shaken up, sans cherry limeade.
Anyway, thanks a lot, crazy lady. Now my baby definitely does not want to come out, and I don’t blame him/her one bit.
Yesterday was the due date. Where is the baby, you ask? The baby is still hanging out in my belly, seemingly in no hurry to vacate the premises.
Last night I had my first taste of alcohol since I’ve found out I was pregnant back in July. The small glass of red wine I allowed myself to slowly consume tasted so darn good. I wanted a cigarette too, but David said that was not allowed because he decided the last time he smoked (a few weeks ago) that he really wants us to quit together. I reminded him he could have quit with me back when I quit in July rather than living it up and smoking off and on the last nine months. This did not sway him. And I really didn’t want to go buy cigarettes while nine months pregnant. I do have a shred of dignity left, after all.
Speaking of dignity loss, a few days ago I sneezed and peed a little. David looked so alarmed when it happened because all he was aware of was me sneezing and then hollering FUCK (maybe I said SHIT!, but knowing me, it is more likely I used the f-word)! Granted, I was standing up (so all the baby’s weight was on my bladder) when it happened, but still. It was another thing I thought would not happen to me because I had made it nearly 40 weeks without it happening. Last night, I sneezed twice in a row and didn’t piss myself. It was a real triumph.
Anyway, I was really hoping to have the baby today, as it is K’s birthday and she and I both had hoped for a birthday baby for her. Her due date is a few weeks after my birthday, so I was hoping she could return the favor and pop her baby girl out early. I know today is not over yet, but I’d really have to skedaddle if I were to give birth before midnight.
David summed it up best this morning in the doctor’s office while we were in the examining room waiting on the midwives: “You are so over pregnancy. It’s actually funny how over pregnancy you are.” After yesterday, a day where I essentially spent the entire day in bed, crying, I think he was glad to get a laugh out of me. Funny thing about these pregnancy hormones–yesterday I felt as hopeless as could be, today is not quite as bad.
So here are today’s stats: I’m 39 weeks, 3 days pregnant. My weight has gone down a couple of pounds from last time (this is a true triumph, considering I ate Johnny’s and petit fours last night–can you tell David was really trying to cheer me up?) and my blood pressure was 128/68. The baby’s heartbeat was 128 bpm. And that was about it. The midwives assured me it was not abnormal at this point in the pregnancy to lay in bed and cry as I did yesterday. I did lose some (or the entire? who knows?) of my mucus plug over the weekend, but I know that doesn’t mean anything. From all I’ve read/heard, it simply means you will give birth sometime between the next 2 hours and 2 weeks. Real specific. I am hereby declaring the mucus plug to be the most useless part of pregnancy.
My next appointment is March 18. Surely this baby will be here before then!?!?
Yes, I am still pregnant. Apparently I will be pregnant forever. While I understand it is the norm for first-timers to go past 40 weeks, I was still hoping for an early miracle.
I am feeling much better this week. Still feeling nauseated off and on, though. I gained one pound since my last visit. My blood pressure was 114/76 and baby’s heartbeat was 125 bpm. Baby is still in prime position but seems to be pretty comfy in there for the time being. The midwives estimate the baby will probably end up being between 8 and 9 lbs. That is going to smart something fierce coming out of my bottom, I tell you what.
Up until a few days ago, I was having contractions nearly around the clock. That has subsided since I’ve recovered and rehydrated from my dance with diarrhea. I was really getting my hopes up that labor was just around the corner! I talked to the midwives about things I’m doing to try to get me primed and ready to go into labor. I confirmed that I was religiously taking my evening primrose oil. I told them David and I even had sex, to no avail. They laughed and informed me it would take more than one time. Uh, how come no one has ever mentioned that to me before? People always act like they have sex when heavily pregnant and BAM! they are in the delivery room an hour later. I think this sex-starting-labor thing is a myth. It is probably a lie made up by some man whose pregnant wife wouldn’t do it with him.
One more appointment before my due date!!