No News Yet...

Yep, here it is, Halloween, five days past my estimated due date, and I’m still pregnant. Very, very pregnant. I’m finding myself in new territory, as with BabyGirl – I’m sorry, now LittleGirl - I went into labor on my own exactly on my due date. I was certain this little booger would come a little early, but my little Halloween prankster apparently has other things in mind. This has brought a small amount of anxiety, of course, but I am trying to be patient. Illegal Midwife told me a few weeks ago that baby girls tend to be born on a new moon (and boys on a full moon) and the new moon is Wednesday. Cross your fingers for me! I thought I was getting close – on Friday last week I woke up at 4am with some good contractions. But, alas, they fizzled out after about three hours. Damn it. I keep trying to remind myself that she will come when she’s ready to, and that she can take as long as she needs. That was so much easier to say two months ago. Still, everyone around me is asking questions like, "so when do you go in to be induced"? My response is, "never!" Despite my anxiousness to get this kid out, I have no reservations about sticking to my guns on this one. I had my most recent Legal Midwife appointment on Wednesday, which sort of sent me into a bit of a worry spiral. I was, in a way, hornswaggled into a non-stress test, which is where they strap your belly to a fetal monitor and a contraction monitor, and then you have to hit a little button whenever the you feel the baby move. I say hornswaggled, because I wasn’t expecting it and all of the sudden she was strapping me to the machine, and I didn’t question it right away. It wasn’t until we got to the part where I had to hit the button where I realized what she was doing. Not really a huge deal, but I do wish she had explained what she was doing. And my baby was fine, so there. But then LM essentially told me I "have to" go in for an ultrasound at 41 weeks to do a Biophysical Profile, and that didn’t sit well with me. She painted a very vivid picture of how my baby might be in my uterus, all floppy and stressed out, which was rather frightening. But on the other hand, I know of women who have gone in for these tests only to be told that the baby was in distress and needed to come out ASAP, then go right to the hospital for an "emergency" cesarean, only to find that the baby is perfectly fine. This brings in that issue of, is it better to let your baby actually get stressed out, or to have the cesarean as a measure for "just in case" with both of us suffering the consequences of unnecessary surgery. So I don’t want to have the test. I did question – if she is moving well and her heartbeat is fine, then is this really necessary? LM said yes, because it helps measure fluid and to see if she is reacting properly. I’m thinking no. I think it’s more important for me to trust. Of course, there’s that mommy voice of, God forbid something goes wrong and it was preventable and ultimately it’s my fault because I made certain choices. MyBeloved says I invent things to worry about…

Somebody PLEASE, Stick a Fork in Me

I am SO done! I am ready to have this baby. As far as I can see, the sooner she comes, the sooner I can lay on my back, the sooner I can think about getting some sleep (I know that actually won’t be for a while anyway but nonetheless the sooner she comes the sooner we get past that point)… Ok baby, any time now. I’ve already gotten clearance from my Illegal MW to have her – she was full term (37 wks) about 1.5 weeks ago. I’m feeling like she’s coming early; though I’m not holding my breath because I said that all throughout my pregnancy with BabyGirl. (Should I start calling her LittleGirl now?) All I know is I’m sick of being pregnant. Oh sure, I’ll miss the kicking and that wonderful feeling of life growing and being nurtured inside me. But I’m freaking exhausted now and I’m tired of waiting around. Let’s get this party started. I did have some full-throttle nesting neurosis this week. I cleaned the kitchen, including being on my hands and knees to scrub the floor, and then the next day I cleaned the bathroom. I’m ticked off at MyBeloved though, because last night was garbage night and he did not change the kitty litter nor sweep the bathroom floor, so I cannot mop in there yet. I don’t think he realizes that his life is at stake ;-) And then, our toilet is broken – not in a non-functional way, just in a pain-in-the-butt-needs-a-$3-piece-to-flush-it-properly way and so all my stuff that sits on top of the toilet is in the hall and I can’t put it away until he gets the part. I would get it myself and could probably even fix it, but alas, I have neither car nor cash with which to go to the hardware store. And he’s not really going to be around to do anything about it until maybe Sunday. So until then all my hair styling and makeup stuff that I rarely use anyway is sitting in a massive pile on the floor so we can reach into the toilet tank and pull the little chain. I am definitely feeling crankier than usual. Of course, it didn’t help that last night I was up until 2am trying to get MyBeloved to settle down after an apparently disturbing rescue call (he is a volunteer fire fighter). If I weren’t so close to babytime, I would have made him tell me all about it so that he wouldn’t have to bottle it in, but especially based on the reaction he had, I could tell it was pretty gruesome and I felt it best to protect my mindset. All I know is that he said it was far worse than the last time he was genuinely disturbed by an accident scene, and in that case, an elderly man was a victim of a hit-and-run and they called the fire department to hose down the street of some of the poor gentleman’s…er… remains. That one shook MB for days. So I spent the wee hours trying to distract him – talking to him about other stuff and making him turn the TV on to watch Sex in the City reruns. Fortunately, by the time the show was over he was snoring, but then was up :45 min later for another emergency call. Poor thing :-(