Would you like some cheese with that whine?

Where to start? My keyboard decided to suddenly have three letters not work. I’m 10 months pregnant. My hormones…. OMG my hormones. I’m not sleeping. I have a three year old who is a great kid but, let’s face it, three. And I am kinda at least a little sick.

None of these are dire, drastic, horrible things. These are what we like to call “annoyances”.

So I went in to my midwife appointment. I spent my usual 5 – 10 minutes HATING the daytime tv they have on with strict notes that we patients are not to touch it. I am subjected to a woman who hates her facial hair and a serious discussion of which kind of nose job is better.

Then I go into the room and don’t really like what the scale says and the nurse-person has trouble taking my blood pressure, as usual. I wait the standard 5 more minutes with a piece of paper across my legs, reading an article in a parenting magazine. It is about a problem I do not have and will never have.

My midwife comes in. I like her, I do. But she has HAD IT. She was in an accident on Friday and no one in the office even asked how she was doing and she came in and the phone calls were stacked high and instead of concern they just told her that people were waiting for her already and when she asked for time off they talked about how it would affect her numbers for the month… in the course of our 15 minute exam, she broke into tears three times. Dammit, I’m the hormonal pregnant woman here! Her staff really do probably not give her much support or nurturing. They’re the sort of “It’s 5 so I’m leaving” types who are all about just meeting their obligations and not noticing what other people need. (In fairness, they’re also pretty efficient.) Her corporate structure (she’s part of a huge organization) is totally failing, because someone in her chain of command should have noticed that she’s really struggling with what’s being asked of her and taken some steps to find ways to address it — just as a good management technique. And she really needs to do a better job of managing her own stress. Maybe she should have the conversation with her staff about how they’re not being supportive — or her boss. Not her 40 week and one day patient who happens to be a good listener.

Oh, and do you remember when she did the pelvic exam at 36 weeks and I was 1 cm dilated and 90% effaced and I told all y’all not to get excited? According to today’s pelvic exam, all the contractions I’ve been having have accomplished…. absolutely nothing. In fact, she said I was 1 cm dilated and 80% effaced. (I suspect the effacement numbers are rather subjective.) So yeah. They haven’t done anything. I’m at exactly the same spot I was a month ago and there is no sign that I’m going to give birth any time soon. I think she didn’t strip my membranes because I wasn’t “ripe” enough. (Although I am having the fun of crampiness and discomfort, so maybe she did strip ‘em and it just hurt less than last time.)

At least the baby is at -1. (That means his head really is in the birth canal — ready to go. See also: I have to spread my legs in order to bend down.)

She decides not to send me in for an NST because the heart rate is fine and I’m not looking imminent and there’s no reason to think there’s anything wrong. There really isn’t. 

So I decide on some retail therapy. There’s a Linens ‘N Things going out of business right across the street. Surely I can find something I need on sale. Or at least can find a roundabout way of justifying purchasing.

The sale sucks. The prices are all way more than I’m willing to spend. 10% off is not a great sale.

Then I go to Staples. At least I can get a new keyboard.

They don’t sell the split keyboards I use anymore — they only have these weird humpy very expensive keyboards now. While I probably could expense it, why pay more for something I like less? I notice they have also stopped making/selling the mouse I like.

I fail retail therapy. FAIL.

I should probably focus on the bit where everything looks fine with my baby and even in a worst case I only have to work for another 4 days and maybe one of these days I actually will give birth and my husband and I are both gainfully employed and we have no risk of losing the house and my son is adorable and healthy. These are all true and good things.

But waaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

40 weeks and a day

In the Bible, whenever they want to express “a really long time” they use the number 40. 40 days for Noah’s flood. 40 years (I think) the Israelites wandered in the desert. 40 days Jesus spent being tempted by the devil.

And 40 weeks shall a woman be with child.

In this case, a child who has the hiccups again.

So here I am at 40 weeks and a day. I’ve spent the last, oh, three or four weeks knowing that I could give birth at ANY TIME. Having constant contractions hasn’t helped me forget that either. The room is ready. The laundry is mostly done. The projects at work that I needed to do are done. I have plans in place. My social calendar is notably bare.

OK, Grey’s Halloween costume isn’t done yet, but did you really think it would be?

We’re ready to go here! Any time! Yup! Ready! Still ready! We’re at the point where everywhere I go people ask me, “Are you still here?” I suppose my only saving grace is that I really don’t look TEN PLUS MONTHS pregnant. No, I only look about 7 or 8 months gravid. Lies, damn lies and statistics.

It’s hard to stay ready this long.

For me, too, it’s hard knowing that while I’m OVERDUE, based on the family history I’ve been nattering on about for the last 7 or so months, I’m still not as likely to have the baby, say, today as I am say, Sunday. Or a week Sunday, if this baby follows his brother’s lead. It may not seem like a long time to stay ready and waiting, but it is. 

It’s especially hard because I’m not feeling really well any more. I’m not sleeping well. I have trouble falling asleep and I have trouble staying asleep. This is NOT NORMAL for me. Yesterday I got my hopes up because I was nauseous and crampy. Turns out I was just nauseous and crampy. I’m having these very odd pains in my back, as though the muscles up and branching out from my spine periodically catch on fire. It takes my breath away with pain. I am an old hand at back pain, but I’ve never experienced this particular kind of back pain before.

I find myself fantasizing about Ibuprofen.

In the very near future I will, once again, present myself at my midwife’s office. She will strip my membranes this time around (probably). She will likely send me to the hospital for a non-stress test. There will likely be at least one misunderstanding with a hospital staff person where they assume I’m there to be induced, being post due and all. I will at some point tonight get my hopes up that THIS IS IT. And it probably won’t be it.

I wonder how many more times I can write about being READY ALREADY. I was going to say, how many more times I could write about it and be entertaining, but I suddenly realize that it’s possibly too late to accomplish the goal of “not annoying all four of my readers”.

Are we THERE yet?