Every night, Scott gets off the couch, kisses me goodnight, and says "I'm going to go take a nap, wake me when you need me." I spend the next few hours walking around the condo straightening up, sweeping the floors, doing the leftover dishes in the sink, throwing a load of laundry in, paying bills. (Hey! I don't let Santa come unless the house is spotless, I'm certainly not going to bring my son home to a messy home!) At some point, I give up hope that I'm going to break my water and mosey into bed. I play "uno" on my iphone until right around the time Scott's alarm clock goes off. At some point during his morning activities I drift off into my couple of hours of nervous sleep. My worst immediate fear is that my water will break around 7am and Scott will not be able to get back into the city during rush hour in time to hold my hand during labor. In reality, how many women's water break and the baby shows up in their arms in an hour? But my kid is sure to my dramatic, so I spend every morning between 6-9am in a restless sleep worried that my water will break and Scott will miss the birth. Crazy. And not so good for this whole "sleep" thing I'm supposed to be storing up. The good news is I'm soo physically ready for a newborn. I get, maybe, four hours of sleep a day/night. I almost feel like if I sleep when my baby sleeps, I may get
more once the baby is born! Well, maybe 15 minutes more or so ;)
To say I've hit the ultimate place of frustration is an overstatement. Let's break it down for a second. I've been a
really good sport here! A pregnancy consists of 40 weeks. I've been sick since week 3. Throwing up, not able to get off the bathroom floor sick. I spent over 2 FULL weeks in bed with my head in a bucket, no exaggeration. I've landed in the hospital *3* times, 2 with overnight stays. I've dealt with nausea, puking, and a general sickness for over 30 weeks. I've felt contractions for over 8 weeks. They've been painful for over 6. They've been "breathe through" for over another week. I went on strict (aka boring!) bedrest for 3 weeks (in the middle of the summer!). I've been dialated for 6 weeks. I'm not trying to complain (though I have gained the RIGHT to at this point) or claim that I've had the worst pregnancy ever (I know it can *always* be worse and is for many women), but simply put, I. AM. OVER. IT.
Scott told me the other day "Aren't you so excited to meet our little guy" and my response came out "No, I'm so excited to not be pregnant anymore." And that just makes me sad. Of course, I want nothing more than to hold the little guy that has been the cause of so many problems. I know that the second I see/hear him, I will know that I'd do it all over again in a second for him. There is no doubt in my mind. It annoys me (doesn't everything right now?) to no end when someone tells me "Oh it'll all be worth it don't worry!" REALLY!? NO KIDDING. Of course I know it will all be worth it, otherwise I wouldn't be doing it. I am not having a baby because society told me it's the next step in my life, I am doing it because I really really want a baby and kids and a big family to share my life with. If it was only going to be Scott and I for the rest of our lives, we'd be happy. We find a lot of joy in each other. But we both want to share our happiness with children. We want to take them on vacations and show them the animals at the zoo and laugh with them while watching movies on the couch and make messes eating cupcakes with them. So yes, I know it will all be worth it. And I'd do it again in a second. And yes, God willing, I will do it again and again to get more children to fill our house, even if it means another 9 long months being miserable. But right now, I'm going to wallow in my pain and cry and complain. Because I've earned the right to.
Last week, at my 37 week appt, Scott and I left with a renewed sense of excitement. Our over anxious baby boy had made it to full term. I was still 2 lbs under my personal weight gain limit (and 3 lbs over what the doctors told me I minimally should be gaining). And the best news, my exam showed cervical progress! My doctor informed us that after 4 weeks, sitting nervously at 2cm, we had graduated to 3+ cm, 60% effaced (gotta get to 100% by delivery time fyi), and the baby's head had lowered down and was "ready". She told us she did not think we'd get through the next few days, much less the weekend, that he was prime and ready to come! Excitement mounted. What could we do, we asked? She said walk. I informed her when I would walk, it would really hurt. She told me that was good and to walk through the pain, when it hurt, walk more and faster. So we did. All week. We walked everynight for a couple of hours through the neighborhood. (We have picked out every out of our price range home we could ever want to live in). Nothing. Well, pain, but no water breakage, no baby. Sometimes the contractions would be so painful I'd get tears in my eyes and have to stop for a minute. Scott took my hand and forced me to walk more, all the time apologizing for pushing me even though I was in pain. (I know he just wants me to be out of pain and for us to be a family so I don't hold it against him, but man, he's been quite the Billy Blanks trainer lately!)
Saturday night we went to Navy Pier and walked the pier back and forth. If I couldn't get my water to break in a *huge* crowd at Navy Pier trampling one another to get the best spot to watch the fireworks, well I just don't know what to do. We drove around the hospital late Sat. night hitting bumps to try and break my water (no joke.). On Sunday, we again headed downtown, parked the car, and walked up and down Michigan Ave. Again the pain became too intense, I was too hot, and frankly, my feet were *killing* me (none of my comfortable shoes fit at this point people! Flipflops is all I got!). So we begrudingly headed back home again (jiggity jig) and walked the neighborhood (again). Nothing (again). But everyday the pain got a little worse, so I pushed through. By the start of this week, I did not think I was going to make it to my next appt. The pain was there when I would sit (though it would slow, the intensity would remain). Walking through the condo caused me pain. Moving while "sleeping" caused immense pain. This had to be it right!?
Two days ago, Tues., was my next appointment--38 weeks. I woke up from my "nap" Tuesday morning and was in a lot of pain. I called Scott, who then left work early, to come get me and take me to my appt. We almost called the office to ask if we should try going to the hospital instead because of the pain I was in. But my appt was in a hour so we waited. We grabbed the camcorder, kissed Maizy goodbye, and hopped in the car. We were ready. I got to my appt and told the nurse how I was feeling. She almost skipped my exam to go immediately to hooking me up to a machine to track the contrations and pain. But the doctor said "Let me check her out first." You can imagine my disappointment when she told me "Well your cervix is the same as last week so we can't admit you to the hospital. But don't worry, its so close it'll be any day now!" YEA RIGHT. I explained that I've been doing nothing but walking and walking was really painful. Her advice? Stop walking. Just rest. Well resting does not move your baby along. (Apparently neither do squats, lunges, balance balls, or stretching, I've tried.) But you know what? I don't care anymore. I'm completely discouraged. I will no longer be walking every night because it hurts and it appears to be doing nothing. So now I am just hanging out, waiting. How ironic that 6 weeks ago I wanted nothing more than for my baby to stay safe and sound inside, worried every second that something I was going to do was going to "accidentally" push him out, and now feeling the same type of incompetence that nothing I can do is "helping" to get him out.
I would like to tell you (or like to tell myself) that he will be here "any moment" like my doctors keep telling me, but instead I will tell you that if you ever have a preterm labor scare, go check yourself into Northwestern. They do an impecable job of stopping your labor. Scott seems to think the baby heard how upset I was that my glider set would not be here on time to rock him in. Well, I am happy to say (yes I am happy. It still happens once in a while) that the chair and ottoman slipcover are here, the chair is scheduled to be delivered tomorrow!, and
even my ottoman (that was recently re-backordered until mid August!) showed up yesterday!! So maybe he was waiting for his nursery to be officially finished. Scott's convinced the minute the delivery men leave, my water will break. How funny it will be if he's right!?
I can't express how badly I want to hold my baby at this point. (Yes, I know everyone all 38+ preggo mommies to be want nothing more.) I know it will be soon, hell my due date is in 10 days and my doctors told me they won't let me go past it! But I want it now. I was informed at my appt. that I have hit my weight gain goal. I am 30 lbs more than I was at the beginning and I made cupcakes for dinner Tuesday night! This is not good in so many ways. (I am still 5 lbs under the "max" recommended weight gain, but still, my baby does NOT weigh 30 lbs my friends!) If I go another 10 days, well, I don't want to think about where my poor weight will stand!
Baby boy has been "beating me up" even more than usual the last few days so I'm pretty convinced he's listening to me and trying to break the water like I asked him. I'd love for him to succeed soon. For everyone's sake. And if he doesn't ... well what's 10 more days after the last 9 months I've had, right? ;)
