I’m honestly very surprised that it is now the end of August and I don’t have a second daughter yet. Ten days ago, I was sure that Peanut’s arrival was imminent. Let’s be honest; by the end of July I thought Peanut’s arrival was imminent. Yet it is now the 25th of August and I’m still very pregnant. As I blogged about before, the baby has technically been here all along, but I’m starting to get greedy. I love to feel her surges and twists and hiccups…even her little heels in my ribs. But I want her in my arms instead of centimeters away.
A girlfriend with the same due date as mine had her baby girl on August 15th, and just today another girlfriend whose due date was two weeks after mine had her baby boy. Today, at the restaurant where my mom and I went to have breakfast, the hostess delicately rubbed my belly and sagely proclaimed that the baby still needed to drop quite a bit before I had a prayer of giving birth to her. My cousin’s wife and friend (also pregnant) said that the baby was going to emerge with long hair and a tattoo. I’m taking it all in stride, and I admit that I get a little giggle out of each time someone asks me when I’m due, and I tell them “Last Monday.” The look of surprise, commiseration (usually) and horror (occasionally) on their faces is usually a balm for my frustration.
I’m well-informed and a biologist to boot, so I know that all of this is completely normal and well within the range of what is considered a healthy pregnancy, but it doesn’t make it any easier to keep playing the waiting game. I know we are giving our little girl the best possible start we can by letting her arrive on her own time. I also have experienced a pseudo-induction; a 41-week membrane sweep with Pumpkin was followed by the necessity of Pitocin infusion, since the sweep only managed to break my water and contractions never got going. I don’t want to go through that again. I think that the intervention; as minor as it was, (according to my OB) led to a cascade of events that I want to avoid this time around. No induction. No epidural. No fear.
I’ve told the Captain that I feel like we are in limbo right now, just kind of waiting for Peanut to arrive and turn us from a trio to a foursome. Since I had a seven-week ultrasound with this pregnancy, my estimated due date is likely as accurate as they are able to be (give or take a few days), and this baby is a genuinely slow-cooker. She’s likely going to emerge with more hair and longer finger and toenails, and have an easier time latching to nurse, which is always a positive thing.
Even though I’ve given birth to one child already, I’ve never experienced labor starting naturally. My day consists of wondering if every little twinge, back pain, or cramp is finally labor beginning, but most of the time I’ve either just been sitting in a way that makes my back hurt, or I just have to poop. Everyone tells me that I’ll know it when it is really beginning. And I’m trying to be patient…really, I am. As I’ve been sitting here writing this post, Peanut has been dancing around inside of me, putting an abnormally heavy amount of pressure on my cervix and my bladder. Maybe it will be tonight.
|I even said “please”!|