Monday, March 23, 2015

Tummy Tuesday :: 37 Weeks

WOW!  Time feels like it is going by a little faster.  Maybe that's not exactly true.   I just feel that way because this blog is a little backdated, so I am always writing things as I have progressed a little further into my pregnancy.  I feel like, "Oh wow!  That was, like, so long ago!  I am almost done."  When in reality, on the days I am not writing on my blog, I am thinking, "Sheesh!  This is taking for-everrrr!  Each day is like a week long by itself.  Hurry up, baby girl!  Just get here!"

I am starting to have mixed feelings about being pregnant now.  First, I was so excited that I was literally rubbing my little bump and praying over it.  I prayed that this wasn't some fluke accident, after trying to get pregnant for so many years.  For my entire first trimester, everything felt so surreal and I just wanted to make sure that God knew I was grateful and that I wanted this more than anything I have wanted in a really long time.  Then, the nausea...the heartburn...the fatigue...the uterine cramps.  After all that set in, I was hateful and just couldn't wait to get done with things.  I felt that way up until about two weeks ago.

Today, I am sitting firmly at 12 days before my due date.  I am attending weekly prenatal appointments and getting more excited at the end of each day.  Two weeks ago, I went to the first of my weekly appointments and I found out that I am ONE CENTIMETER DILATED.  When I heard that, I was like...

For. Fucking. Real.  I walked out of my gynecologist office Like A Boss........ And then I went to my appointment earlier this week to find out that I haven't made anymore progress.  Ha!  The joke's on me.
This past week or so has been a little stressful and frustrating. First, I must have picked about 95 fights with The Hubs about the most trivial things.  Things like...  "You don't clean the house enough.  I am not the maid!  I am just as much as a citizen of this world as you are and you cannot and will not berate me as though I am a second class citizen, maid and cook!"......."No, I will not have sex with you, play with your penis, or shake your damn hand!  I don't like the tone you used with me at dinner three weeks ago." ....... "I need to spend $1,000 on stupid things.  Don't question my financial skills or my reasoning behind the spending.  You don't have a vagina, which means you don't understand my level of thinking right now."..... "I told you I lost my mucous plug!  Why the Fuck aren't you out buying me a lemon cream cake from Olive Garden with the candle sparklers on it so we can party and celebrate this milestone?  If you truly loved me and this baby, we would be eating cake right now!"

Yes, my hormones are making me a complete and total monster to be around these days.  I don't even know what to do about it and I think I am actually beyond a point where any sort of apology would even suffice!

Something completely shocking happened this week at my appointment...  First, it was the only day of rain thus far during this week.  I was also almost run over by an inattentive nurse.  Yes, a NURSE almost killed me in her minivan.  If I'd chosen to carry in my giant fountain drink, I can't promise I wouldn't have thrown it at her windshield.  Everything happens for a reason though.  My forgetfulness saved me from getting arrested or something, I am sure.

Anyway, that shocking thing that happened was my OBGYN casually asked me if I planned on being induced again this time around.  I was shocked.  I am two weeks from my due date and I am having no major issues, no health concerns, and my Little Someone is sitting cozy.  I am making normal progress towards a regular delivery, I think.  Without giving it any thought, I declined and we continued with the appointment.  In the end, she told me how much of a "Sweet girl" I am and a "Loving mother" for having the patience to wait until my Little Someone arrives on her own.

I didn't think anything of it at the moment, but it kind of hit me later on.  I was induced with my Little Darling because she was past her due date and well, I selfishly did not want to be in the hospital during Christmas.  I was also miserable because her head slid past my cervix and during each exam, the OBGYN had to push her back inside of my body to check for dilation.  She slid past my cervix around 35 weeks, so you can imagine what it was like to have a baby smashed back inside of you every week for a month.  Aside from having contractions every 3 minutes upon arrival for my induction, I was not making any progress.  The contractions I had did not cause dilation whatsoever.  I was given Pitocin and I still didn't make progress.  Nineteen hours later, I finally had my Little Darling, and swore not to even consider child birth an option until she was at least 5 years of age!

This time, though, I am fine.  I am comfortable for the most part.  This baby's head has not slid past my cervix.  I am dilating on my own.  I have sciatica, heartburn, and on most days, I am positive that my hips will dislocate, but I am not miserable.  Although I am a little disappointed that the evil seed of scheduling an induction has now been planted (I can't help but to think about it now that the option is on the table), I am happy that my OBGYN didn't employ any scare tactics.  She didn't try to convince me one way or another.  I know too many women who had their hearts set on a vaginal delivery and were scared or tricked into or convinced to have a Cesarean.  More power to the women who WANT to schedule an induction and a C-section.  That's fine, but I am 100% against a doctor persuading women against their will for the financial gain of the doctor's practice.  The utmost priority should be a healthy baby and mother.  Not scheduling in as many medicine-heavy, costly procedures as possible.

Unfortunately, since I was induced and experienced not one single element of delivery on my own without medical intervention, I don't know what to expect.  Every time I have a symptom of being close to delivery, I start to do something crazy.  For example, I had diarrhea, so I stayed up all night sewing baby blankets and putting my hair into these braids.  Diarrhea means I am about to go into labor.... or I drank too much milk.  Whatever.  Then, I was having back cramps and spasms.  Totally labor, right?  So I packed bags for everyone and planned out a menu, a to do list, a code word for when it's "Go Time" and started several fights with The Hubs.  Back spasms means baby, right?....... or I spent too much time cleaning and lifting and moving things around.  And what about these stupid Braxton Hicks contractions?!  Ugh! Man!  Some were so intense that I thought it was the real thing, so I sat on the floor crying and rocking myself because The Hubs was unavailable, and I thought I would have to birth the baby in my bathtub on my own.  Scary Braxton Hicks contractions clearly means D-Day........ or I was dehydrated because I had been running so many last minute errands to prep for my Little Someone and I hadn't drank nearly enough water.

As I recall, I was just as much of an emotional wreck with my Little Darling, thinking EVERY possible symptom happening meant that I was about to give birth.  I am trying to keep myself under control now, and just focus on getting things ready.  Seriously, if you are knocked up, let me help you out::  Do Not, I repeat, DO NOTTTT  Wait Until Your Third Trimester to start preparing!  You will be huge, achy, exhausted, emotional, short-tempered, busy with appointments, and you will constantly think you are in labor when you aren't.  You'll thank me later!  You're Welcome.

Until it is time for my Little Someone to make her debut, I will keep enjoying these early days of sunny spring weather.  I'll keep getting these last minute loose ends tied.  I will also try not to end up in jail.  Just kidding. I meant, I will be nicer-- Ha!!!

Have a great day.

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