06.05.06
I can feel your body moving
I thought about updating earlier this morning, but decided not to since I do not really want to look back on my last few days of being pregnant and only remember being crabby and irritable.
That said, I did yell at a woman at the Air Canada call centre, burst into tears on the phone with Steve, cry for twenty minutes into Milos fur, and then have some chamomile tea and a bath to calm down.
So here I am after a lunch of boiled eggs and Eggo waffles (breakfast foods are comfort foods for me), feeling considerably better than I did when I woke up this morning.
In a last ditch attempt to get this kid to arrive, I am going to take some homeopathy remedies this evening as recommended by my midwife.
Friday evening I started fighting off a headache that lasted until Saturday mid-morning. We decided to page the midwife since it was one of those nasty preeclampsia symptoms I was warned about. After a really high BP reading, we decided to head over to the hospital where I was hooked up to a couple machines and had to donate some blood to the greater good of making sure I was healthy. No protein, no baby in danger, nothing to be concerned about except this inexplicably high blood pressure. So after an OB told me I was fine but needed to pee in a jug for 24 hours to make sure there was no protein in my urine (even though there has not been any for weeks, and my MW tested it earlier that day), she decided to check my cervix (which my first reaction was to say no, but then I let her because I felt like I had to, even though looking back on it, she really did not need to check it, although I am now about fifty percent effaced and a stretchy one centimeter so at least that made me happy), I was sent home to continue on with a rainy Saturday afternoon. I was instantly suspicious about the OB and am happy that I am constantly reassured by my experiences that I made the right decision to go with midwives.
Peeing in a big orange jug is kind of funny at first, because they give you a little potty that looks like a hat and you can measure how much pee you let out each time and then you pour it into the big container. Until the container starts to get kind of full and it is the middle of the night and you forget to pee in the hat and oops oh well what difference does one pee make but also every time you open the big jug to pour your pee in you have to hold your breath, because, face it, pee really stinks, especially the old stuff.
You know, when my friend went overdue, it seemed like she was so far overdue (she went into labour at 41 weeks). And now here I am staring down 41 weeks with no reassurance except a stretchy cervix and feeling more than a little disappointed about the whole situation. My mom offered to come up for my birthday if I am still pregnant, and while at the time I said that we would see, now I am most definitely sure that if I were to have any kind of human contact besides with Steve and the midwives, I may show a side of myself that is none-too-pretty. Wednesday is looming in my mind as a stage in pregnancy that I honestly did not think I would see, while Friday is even worse with an ultrasound. Even at this stage, the thought of induction scares me, and when Steve reminded me that they told us way back at the beginning that I had a right to ask to be induced at ten days overdue, but my tenth day falls on a Saturday so should we ask about it on Wednesday, I am still not sure I am quite there yet, and feel like two weeks is not that much longer than ten days and maybe it is worth waiting (at the potential cost of my mental health) in hopes of going naturally. Another fear of mine is being induced at 42 weeks (June 14, thereabouts) leaves us traveling on a plane with a ten day old infant (possibly eight days old since it is looking like we are going to have to change ticket dates). In that instance, I really do not think that we will go.
This resulted in Steves mom telling us how she traveled from PEI to NS with her child at two weeks, which may have come close to making my head explode.
Anyway, gripe gripe gripe. As I have been typing this, the cramping and little contractions I have been having off and on all day have continued, not the mention the couple that woke me up through the night. If this baby would just listen to me, I would ask her to come out today, since it is my favourite MWs last day on duty until I am (shudder) 42 weeks pregnant. But since she has not listened so far, I really do not have much hope.
A voice in my brain tells me something will be happening soon, but due to the risk of getting my hopes trampled yet again, I am not really paying much attention to it.
The days get longer though, and even if I had places to go or appointments to take my mind off of everything, I do not really feel like doing much of anything that takes me farther than my walk loop with the dog. So I tidy everyday and watch Oprah and try to stay on top of the laundry and walk Milo and hope and hope that this kid comes on her own soon. Failing that, I hope that my mental state is strong enough to endure the next ten days without a system crash.
wunderwuman at 1:35 p.m.