Thursday, February 26, 2015
So this has been a fun week!
It hasn't been that bad. Really, truly, I'm hanging in there. I've been working from home all week, watching a lot of Gilmore Girls, eating a lot of candy and ice cream, and going to bed at 9:30 every night. If mentally being overdue wasn't so insanity-inducing, I'd say I've been having a mighty fine time.
But yeah, the whole mental thing. It is just so impossible to go about normal life with this big "thing" hanging over our heads, and every time I think about it too much I get either nervous about the conditions and logistics of how it will all go down, or I start thinking about the pain of labor, and grossness of it, and how it certainly won't be super duper fun. And then I feel bizarrely relieved that I'm not doing it yet, and can continue to just sit and watch TV and eat candy and live in limbo la la land for a little bit longer. And then 5 minutes later I am PISSED and praying for the pain to just start already and I'm so agitated by the fact that I just want to meet this baby girl and make sure she is healthy and everything is okay but she just won't listen and come out already and what the hell is she waiting for?! I want to tell people what her name is and find out if she really does have lots of hair after a long pregnancy riddled with heartburn. And I want to smell her. And kiss her. She has been my little companion every day for the last 9 months and now I am ready to wrap her in soft blankets and inspect her little toes and hang out with her in a way that does not involve her kicking my bladder or seemingly clawing at my cervix to get out. But then not. Getting out.
My dad had to unexpectedly travel this week for work, he left yesterday and will be back tomorrow, and this is somewhat unfortunate because he was our guy. Our backup that could leave work or home or anywhere at the drop of a hat, car seats to haul away our children loaded in his Jeep, the skinny on where they should be or should go or will need to be picked up at on any given day at any given time.
And really, it's not that big of a deal, we have so many people in our lives that are ready and willing and able to help. This little girl has aunts and uncles up the wazoo chomping at the bit to help us in our time of need. But still, our main backup being gone meant we just had to think through logistics quite a bit this week. We had to have a different plan for each day, to account for who would watch the kids and bring them to school or their stuff. It meant we had to think about it every night before bed. Plan and prepare and inform and decide.
And it's just annoying that it's all been for nothing. I have this little "cheat sheet" with important information about each kid and their "stuff" and "schedules". At the bottom it has little notes with dates next to them about tiny stupid things that would actually be important to the kids so I don't want them to go forgotten. Like swimsuits and towels and $6 to go to the pool with daycare on 2/25 (Louie) and 2/26 (Gus). Or how 2/23 was "hat day" at preschool, and 2/25 sweatsuit day. And before that? There was pajama day on 2/18, and soccer on 2/21, and yeah, the freaking Valentines day parties at daycare and school on 2/12 and 2/13.
I get that a lot of this is fluff, but for a 5 year old, pajama day has the potential to feel a little bit like the best day of your life. At least that's what I gather. I know how stressful and how huge of a transition this will be for both boys, and for Dan and me as well, so anything I can do to make things more "normal", provide them with the comfort of some routine in all the crazy... well it's important to me.
My point is this. You should see that damn list. The stupid "cheat sheet". TONS of stuff crossed off as irrelevant, since those days have all passed. And still no baby. All that careful planning and thinking ahead. For nothing. Now looking at that stupid list makes me IRRITATED.
This morning I had my appointment with one of the midwives. According to me and my due date, which is based on conception, I am 40 weeks, 6 days. According to my charts, I am 40 weeks, 3 days. So I'm not considered 41 weeks until this next Monday, at which point they would do an ultrasound and a non-stress test and make sure they're still okay with where I'm at. Induction would be at 42 weeks. God almighty, please no.
Anyway, this morning I had them check me for the first time. I didn't want them to do it last week, since I knew it would just cause cramping and probably more mind-games, but today I said hell yes. Also, sweep those membranes.
Well I'm already at 5 cm. Walking around freaking half-way there, no wonder it feels like she's about to fall out of me! (Sorry.)
With my history of pretty quick labors, the midwife I met with was like, "How long will it take you to get to the hospital?" and "please call us right away, as soon as you start having any contractions" and "I really doubt you'll make it to next Monday, but let's schedule that non-stress test and ultrasound just in case, and if you STILL haven't gone into labor tomorrow morning, you're welcome to come back and I can sweep your membranes again."
Ugh. Sounds super fun! It's a date!
So I of course left somewhat excited, crampy, uncomfortable, and nervous. And then got bizarrely emotional and started crying while talking to Dan on the phone, insisting that he come home and work remotely because it just makes me nervous being alone when I'm dang 5 cm dilated.
And yet, here we sit. I'm extremely uncomfortable and having lots of cramping and "signs" but no real contractions at all, still, 5 hours later. And the boys will need to be picked up from daycare within the hour. Damn. So much for getting this thing going while it would be convenient. (It's not going to happen when it's convenient is it?)