Fourteenth doctor’s appointment, 40 weeks

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!

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March 18, 2011. Uncategorized.

One Comment

  1. Lynn replied:

    Oh, Emily, what a beautiful/horrifying story. I’m so sorry things didn’t go as planned, but so happy for you and your little man! My labor didn’t go exactly as I planned either. I ended up with HELLP syndrome and felt completely betrayed by my own body. But what you had to go through definitely puts that in perspective.

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