Monday, August 22, 2011

And now we wait...


For those of you waiting on pins & needles and with baited… bated… beighted...(?) breath, here’s a brief update: 

I have seen the midwife a few times in the last several weeks, and it’s pretty much a no-news, waiting game at this point.  I’ve been examined a couple times and currently I am about 1 cm dilated, about 60% effaced, and the top of her head is approximately at a -1 station.  For those of you who know what all that means… good for you!  If you don’t, you may not want to… if you just can’t stand it, go look it up.  I’m saving the graphic post for later… 

Basically it means my body is working properly – it's preparing for labor, doing everything it can to keep labor as short and normal as is possible with such things.

Does it tell us when things will get started?  Nope.  Not a bit. 

Does it tell us how long or short labor will be?  Nope.  Not a bit. 

Does it tell us if it will be a normal, straightforward labor?  Nope.  Not a bit. 

You might be getting the point by now.  This data really gives us no information about anything other than my body knows the time is getting closer and it's beginning preparations. 

Which is good.

And now we wait… some more.

Monday, August 1, 2011

And the countdown has begun...



As you can see, room is running out.  Sea Monkey likes to remind me of this on a very regular basis.  I can just hear her saying, “Hey, Mommy!”  *tap, tap*  “I need more room in here.  Babies need their stretching room, and I don’t have much anymore.  See?”  *streeeeetch* 

“Ouch, Baby!  I KNOW you don’t have much room in there.  Don’t you think I can feel you pushing and stretching?  You feel that thing against your head?  Yeah, that’s my bladder.  VERY uncomfortable for Mommy.  And that hard thing your foot is pushing against?  That’s my rib – it doesn’t like being moved out of place and it informs me of that preference every time you push against it.  You do realize that out here you’ll have more room than you know what to do with, right?”  

Then I very hastily add, “But things get very cold and uncomfortable out here when babies come too early *cough* hospital bills *cough*.  So why don’t you take advantage of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be perfectly safe and warm and just hang out for a bit.  Think of it as your first lesson in patience.  Then you can come see what it’s like out here in a couple weeks.  K?” 

Then, inevitably, that little speech is followed by, “Eep!  A couple weeks??  Is that all the time that’s left before we are “in the zone”?!  Seriously??  Oy...”  Even though I know not to expect her to come early, just the thought that I could quite possibly have my very own healthy, full-term baby in my arms in less than two weeks always sends this electric shock through my system – a combination of excitement and pure terror...

I have to keep reminding myself that this is one of the few times that being a pessimist is a good thing.  Much better to expect her to come late and be pleasantly surprised by an early arrival than hope she comes early only to be two weeks late.

36 weeks and 5 days...