Tomorrow, we reach the 40-week mark of this preganacy. You would have never convinced me two-weeks ago that I'd still be pregnant today. I was so convinced that I'd be early. In fact, I was so sure I didn't want to be pregnant, that I literally took my suitcase to my last OB appointment and demanded they either break my water or schedule a c-section for me (I still have that option, right?). Between the heat (in the 90's in the City, cooling only to the mid-80's at night) this week and my weight and bulk, sleep has become a serious issue. I've only been able to manage between 2-4 hours a night, waking every 1.5 hours, and I see birthing as my only reprieve.
With my regular OB still enjoying Legoland, I meet her replacement - someone new to the group. Unfortunately, I'm not able to convince him or guilt him into doing much to help me. "You know we can't induce you," he says. How about breaking my water? "I'll do that if you're already in labor, but you're not yet. If you want the C, fine, but the first opening we can plan won't be until Monday afternoon. Again, if you're in labor and change your mind, I'll do it over the weekend, but you have to wait for the labor." He looks at me puzzled at my impatience as we discuss semantics of "just a few days." Nobody seems to understand - I leave, defeated, but also with another appointment to see my regular doctor at her first opening, Monday. She assured me I'd deliver before then - perhaps, if this kid's still stuck inside then, I can guilt her into doing a bit more.
The one thing the new guy was willing to do was strip my membranes - for the 3rd time. He did a good job, though, stretching another 1.5 cm. He encouraged me that everything looks very ready: 80% efaced, 3.5 cm dilated and "very soft." Well, as it did the other 2 weeks, the striping sent me into contractions again, but nothing with any type of regularity. It made me a bit sore, PMS-y, walking like I was carrying a log between my legs, and sure I'd check into the hospital by Saturday. There was an upside as the 21st is a common birthday in our family: my birthday, the girls', and baby Braxton were all born on the 21st. Perhaps, we could have all my parents' grandchindren born on the 21st of a month!
I tried everything permitted. I even schuduled a hair appointment, thinking that Murphy's Law would help. My nervous hairdresser had obsessively thought of what to do should I start giving birth while she's doing my hair, but never had to act on it. Even Murphy's Law isn't as strong as this kid's resolve to stay cozy inside.
All dressed up and nowhere to go? Well, at least yesterday afternoon, it seems as though contractions are starting to organize a little bit. Yesterday, they were about 1/2-hour apart moving to about 15-minutes apart last night. Is today the day? I'm starting to become a cynic, yet I'm stubbornly still driving with packed bags in the car. The contractions didn't go away during the night, but I didn't stay up and time them, either. We'll just have to try not to think about it...hope for the best (today) and plan for the worst (organizing another sit-in at my OB's appointment tomorrow!).
