Forty Weeks, One Day

My prevailing emotion?

Fatigue.

Lord, I'm tired.

My sister called from Times Square a couple of hours ago. She was at the TKTS Booth, and wanted to know if I wanted a half-price ticket to the Cirque du So.leil show for tonight.

It killed me to decline. I love going to shows!

But just the idea of getting to downtown Manhattan sounded exhausting. (This conversation was as I was trudging, oh so incredibly slowly, one and a half (long) blocks home from Emily's house.)

I'm tired of being so tired.

On the plus side, I spent twenty minutes on the elliptical both yesterday morning and today. First thing in the morning, I might add. That's the only time I have the energy.

This is not because I'm trying to maintain fitness. This is only as a survival strategy, to try and maintain some semblance of sanity.

My attitude adjustment is going pretty well, perhaps as a result. I'm not thinking about being "late" or "overdue." I'm [fairly] cheerfully looking forward to August 20th.

It was fun to be at a party yesterday, and to have people ask when I was due, and to answer airily, "oh, today" and then have them gasp in... either admiration (at my fortitude) or horror (they seemed to think my water might break, say, on their shoes.)


I say that would've made for a memorable party experience.

Due Date

I'm not really excited (note the lack of exclamation point in the title of this blog post), because I've decided that this baby is not coming before 42 weeks, August 20th. However, I will be pleasantly (overwhelmingly) pleased if she decides to come earlier. (Please, please!)

What's crazy to me, though, is that my belly will just keep on getting bigger, my back will get more sore (apparently), my ankles will keep getting fatter. This doesn't at all stop, just because she's supposed to be fully cooked. Strange.

I really get it now about why very pregnant women don't like it when lots of folks get in touch to ask if they are still pregnant, have any news, popped yet, etc. I feel like I should at least be touched that they are thinking of me. But I'm not. Because I am forty weeks pregnant and hot and cranky and uncomfortable, dammit.

A friend gave me permission to not answer phone calls and voice mails for the duration, which I gratefully accepted.

Day One: Time For an Attitude Adjustment

One day out from my due date, with no signs of my Lentil making her way to the outside world anytime soon.

Which is hard.

I went to the local new and expectant moms' group group yesterday, and I was the only one there without a baby. I felt like I was being forced to repeat first grade while all my classmates had been promoted. I didn't stay too long -- too hard trying to chat brightly with all these new and exceedingly cheerful mothers as they patted tiny diapered bottoms -- and then went to visit my SMC friend Catherine (not to be confused with Catherine the midwife), which was helpful... Her darling two week old son was born fifteen days after her due date (Cervadil was started at forty-two weeks)! I felt badly complaining to her, after her very long wait, but it turned out great, because despite her having a great game face while enduring the long wait, she had all the same, terribly negative thoughts I've had. Phew!

And truly, what I am enduring cannot fairly be called suffering. It's annoying, and frustrating, but I'm generally not in pain (yesterday I pulled a muscle while walking/having a Braxton-Hicks contraction/sneezing simultaneously... that hurt... but after lying down for an hour, it went away), and I'm still sleeping very well, which I know is both lucky and unusual.

So I'm trying to get my head to a better place, despite whatever my body is doing, or rather, not doing. If I was working with an OB, I would've begged for an induction by now, but ?alas, I'm working with a midwife. I called her in tears yesterday, when I finally waddled all the way home, holding the side of my stomach because the pulled muscle was so uncomfortable... she was kind, and suggested swimming, or a massage. She did not suggest an induction. And I'm pretty positive she won't.

I had acupuncture and chiro today, which were both nice, but no noticeable changes in my uterus or its contents. I'll go back to the chiro on Monday, and am going to take a break from acupuncture for a little bit. I also am going to try to start working out again, with the chiro's blessing -- I think I need that endorphin boost, if I can just muster up the energy.

I just hope the baby in the BabyTicker doesn't disappear tomorrow. That would be depressing.

So here I go, with my brand new, more positive attitude.

Day Two: Coming Out of My Skin

I woke up early this morning (8 am, which was less than eight hours of sleep... very antsy last night, too!) and feel like I am ready to crawl out of my skin. I am so damn antsy! I may have to start exercising again. I reckon this may be related to that.

Long and arduous labor be damned, I am hooked up to the breast pump anyway. I need this baby to come NOW. (please)

Day Three: Feeling Better

Thanks, everyone, for the kind and sympathetic posts. I really, really appreciate them. It's so great to feel like I have a team of folks supporting me! A special shout out to Obernon for her offer for me to come stay with her and her newborn!

My sister and I had a good talk this morning. I was trying to give her permission to go back to MA for a few days, because that seemed like the best use of resources and the best way to meet the most people's needs, if not, perhaps, my own. But after discussing, she decided to stay! She said she wanted to prioritize my needs, and that it sounded to her like I really needed her to stay.

I was surprised to hear her decision... and also surprised to see how very relieved I felt! I didn't know if I was negative about the idea of her leaving because I was just hormonal and also disappointed to hear from the midwife that I wasn't progressing more rapidly... and instead discovered that I was in a much better mood today, hearing this news. I guess I really was worried about going into labor with her a four and a half hour drive away.

So I'm grateful. And trying to give her space (she's hanging out in my bedroom with the better air conditioner while I catch up on email in the living room) and be as thoughtful as I can, given my pregnant state, my sometimes limited energy, and my one bedroom apartment. So, for example, when we walked in the door a few minutes ago, I practiced considerable restraint and didn't immediately try to schedule the time that we would put the decal up on the wall above the crib. Aren't I, like, a rockin' little sister?

(Yes, we, or mostly she, put up the crib yesterday! It looks sweet. Even if my bedroom looks a bit like a juvenile furniture showroom at the moment. I currently have four, count them four, specially-designed places to rest the kiddo in my bedroom alone: car seat, gliding bouncer-seat, crib, and bassinet. I am very excited to put up the decal so I can share my before-and-after photos with you all!) 

Day Four: Discouraged

I had more acupuncture today, again with the electric current attached to the needles. The baby moved a ton, and I've been feeling lots of pressure on my bladder, so I was hopeful.

However, I saw the midwife after acupuncture... and was told I am "only a fingertip" dilated.

She says my cervix feels softer, and originally thought the baby's head was lower, because my fundal height went from 39 cm last week to 37 cm this week... but.... nope. It seems she's maybe just more scrunched up.

At least it does feel to her that the baby is moving a little bit less posterior... though definitely not anterior yet.

I gained three pounds, which is surprising, given that I've been gaining one pound every two weeks at most, but whatever. Some of that is certainly in my ankles.

My midwife does not feel like birth is imminent. She does not want me to use the breast pump to stimulate labor, as she fears that if I did go into labor with the baby's head so high, it would be a very long, arduous labor.

I nearly dissolved in tears in her office, but managed to hold it together by just getting very, very quiet. I'm tired of this. Tired of being tired. Tired of worrying if my sister will be here for the birth. Tired of being so damn hot. Tired of being so ineffective.

I understand now why Shannon said that she was worried she would be pregnant forever. I now wonder if I really am going to have a baby, or if my bedroom is now set up as a juvenile furniture showroom just for kicks?

Gah.

My sister is worried about her seven year old daughter, alone with cousins in another state. My cousin who is watching her vented (via email) to me about how hectic it is for her with another child in the mix, and that I needed to send a gift to my niece to thank her for her sacrifice (which I had already done, earlier this morning)... and so my sister wants to go back to MA for a bit. At first she was saying just for a night, then it was for 24 hours, then 24-48 hours, now it sounds like Wednesday-Saturday.

It makes me sad because it was feeling so good to feel chauffeured around and catered to. To be the star of someone else's show.To feel like I didn't have to worry if I went into labor because someone is here. And now, after having her here for two nights, to already be facing having her leave... it's tough.

Yet she is leaving the decision up to me. But is it really right to ask her to stay if she could do so much more good in MA? How do I weigh my perhaps frivolous wants with her missing her daughter (presumably), my niece missing her mother, my cousin feeling stressed by hosting my niece (though tonight she denied this feeling to my sister on the phone). Is this the lot of the SMC, and I've just been lying to myself?

Five Days: Biophysical Profile, Non-Stress Test, and Contractions

Last night I woke up at about 2 am feeling uncomfortable. My stomach felt sort of crampy, and so did my back.

It felt a little too ironic to consider labor on my sister's very first night in Brooklyn, but I wandered out to the living room to discuss it with her. (She was still up reading, so I didn't feel guilty... though it does feel odd to barge in on someone who thinks they are alone, without a way to knock and warn them.) She encouraged me to go back to bed, wisely pointing out that even if it was early labor, the best thing I could do was get some sleep.

I dutifully went back to bed... and couldn't sleep. Of course. Because I was too busy monitoring the cramping in my stomach and back, wondering how far apart they were (variable, 3-10 minutes apart, how long they were lasting (hard to tell), and how painful they were (not too bad at all). Then I started wondering if I should text the doula, and also my friend the labor coach, you know, just in case it went on to become "real" labor. Eventually I decided that I would never go back to sleep if I kept thinking about it, so I turned the light back on and read for a while. I stopped noticing them while I was reading... a good sign that it wasn't true labor. I went back to sleep about 4 am.

This morning I drove myself, courtesy of my sister's car (I am incredibly grateful to be done with the subway... I just don't have the energy for it anymore) to the office of the chiropractor and acupuncturist. The chiropractor seemed to think I was making good progress -- it was much easier for him to align me today. And after the manipulation, he said that I no longer had a leg length discrepancy! Amazing. He suspects that he may have bruised me a bit last time, pressing too hard (easy to do with pregnant women, apparently -- all that relaxin hormone), which led to the soreness. And gave me permission to not worry about cat/cow poses and my posture!

Then I saw the acupuncturist, my friend Anne. She decided to get aggressive, and put needles in my toes, legs, and sacrum. Then she attached some of the needles to the TENS machine, to provide electrical stimulation to the needles. Yikes. It felt a little like being tapped and a little like being stung by a bee... over and over and over again. I practiced my Hypnobabies techniques and that helped pretty well... but it definitely wasn't an experience I would describe as enjoyable. But not terrible, either. I go back to her tomorrow, and to both of them the following day.

After that, I met my sister for lunch before going to the Biophysical Profile and Non-Stress Test. The BPP was uneventful -- 15 minutes of being attached to a fetal heart rate monitor and monitor for contractions. After a long wait, I saw the ultrasonographer. She said my fluid pockets were a 13, which is well within the range of normal. She said the baby's head is LOW! Hallelujah! And estimated her weight to be 7 pounds, 3 ounces.

This sounds like an excellent birth weight. I am hereby serving eviction notices.

After dinner out (sushi) and a visit to Emily, who got a job today!, we returned home so I could hook my exhausted self up to the breast pump. I will try anything (that isn't too unpleasant) at this point. Not quite ready to commit to castor oil, never mind Pitocin.

Belly Dancing