Sunday, November 20, 2011

Expecting: Failure to Launch

I am 40 weeks, 5 days into my pregnancy. Shrimpie was born on his guess date so I expected this babe to come some time around her's. Couple that with the fact that I've been having contractions on and off since last Sunday, you can't blame me for the anxiety I'm really starting to feel.

I wake in the middle of the night, convinced I must have just had a contraction, only to realize it was likely a giant baby head slamming against a very full bladder. The full bladder is not unusual, I pee every five minutes or so (rough estimate).

I'm irritable. Tired. Walking on eggplant shaped feet with poofy ankles. Heartburn deluxe. And there is no end in sight.

Just about everyone I know who was due around the same time as me has had their babes. Some, with due dates very close to my own, were already holding their littles two weeks ago.

Sigh. I can see why induction looks like such a good out to so many people.

So... We've walked and walked and walked.. We've done the deed. We've tried "smoking" her out with super spicy Thai food. This green curry, from this particular restaurant, is purported to send women into labor soon after ingesting it. That was 26 hours ago... and a no go.

Then we walked some more.

My mom calls every four hours or so. Text messages have been flowing in daily. And in this day of social networking, I receive wall posts and messages on both my Crunchy Convert and personal Facebook pages asking if I'm in labor.

I actually don't mind. Really. Except for my sister texting at 12:40 in the morning. Oi. That one I minded.

But I really shouldn't complain. And mostly I haven't. I've enjoyed this pregnancy. I'm enjoying spending some time with my family of three before it becomes a family of four.

I'm grateful to have full term pregnancies. And hopefully, this baby girl will come out beautiful and perfect and healthy and all the time spent pregnant will be a total blur. Basically, it is anyway. The last week seems to have taken longer than this entire pregnancy. It's Stair Master time. The slowest increment of time ever calculated by man. And it makes my head whirl to consider that she could come tomorrow.. or Saturday.. or two full weeks from now.

Dogs can narrow it down to a window of a few days. What kind of cruel trick of nature was it to narrow it down to a window of about six weeks, give or take, for human women?

But. All that said. I'm enjoying curling my arms around my giant belly and prodding the baby within. I love guessing where her various parts are and what she might look like. Feeling those last days of hiccups and practice breathing and crazy seizure-like motions.

These last days (hopefully not weeks) will soon be a memory. And I will soon be holding my new baby girl. Nursing her and cuddling her to my chest. I'll soon get to see my fella holding a teeny tiny infant again, glowing with pride and tenderness. And I'll get to see my sweet little Shrimpie, who was once so small and new himself (not that long ago) trying out his big brother moves for the first time.

And we might even settle on a name for her!

2 comments:

  1. I hope you've gone into labor since writing this. And, if not, that you're finding ways to cope while you wait. You. Are. Awesome!

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