::screeching halt:: Say what? I thought the induction was Friday!

Enter in today’s marathon of an OB visit — ultrasound at 12, followed by lunch break, cup-peeing, then a long NST (non-stress test), followed by internal & visit with the OB. Praise God for the lunch break at Qdoba with tortilla chips & mild salsa because we were exhausted afterward.

Harrison looks awesome on the ultrasound, measuring right in the 39-week range on all body parts & 7 lbs, 11 oz (not that I put any stock in the weight guess). He passed the NST with flying colors, even kicking the monitor so hard it lost track of the heartbeat several times. Unfortunately, his fluid is low. Ironic, right? I HAVE MORE FLUID IN MY LEFT FOOT than the ENTIRE ATLANTIC OCEAN, & he’s just passing on amniotic fluid levels. As my good friend Sarah announced, my uterus must be PISSED at my feet & screaming “GIVE ME MY FLUID BACK.” With interest, to be paid in cupcakes if I had a preference.

So, with lower fluid, there’s no way they’re waiting until Friday to pull him. Which meant the idea of waiting until Monday was…well, ridiculous. To put it lightly.

So our cute, perky OB waltzed in & said, “How do you feel about tomorrow?”

TOMORROW?!?

Enter a Jessie Spano freak out on both Nate & I’s parts, complete with wild, goofy grins. You know how some people freak the hell out when they see the positive pregnancy test? Yeah, that was us. On a 9-month delay.

Because HOLY CRAP, WE’RE HAVING A BABY TOMORROW. I’M SO EXCITED, I’M SO EXCITED, I’M SO EXCITED….I’M SO….SCARED. Hence a two-minute panic regarding labor and OH MY GOD, that has to come out of my vagina??? When my body is already resisting labor?! Paper bag, please. But God bless my OB, who patted me on the knee & said, “Honey, we’ll give him time. We’ll be patient with him. & I think this will work out just perfectly.” So come tomorrow morning, I am to get up & have a light breakfast, pack the car, & wait. Potentially the longest wait of my life, anticipating the phone call that says, “Hi Blair, we’re ready for you!” Translation: GET YOUR REAR TO THE HOSPITAL TO HAVE A BABY. Where they will dope me up with Pitocin, break my water, & get this show on the road.

So that I can finally meet my son, after a lifetime of waiting for him.

Or wishing your ex would come down with a venereal disease, only to find out that he did while cheating on you.

(for those curious, the first was an actual occurrence in my life…not the second. swearsies. he didn’t get an STD, but I did suggest writing on the bridge over campus that he had syphilis)

When I realized what my due date was (October 4th), I had two things warring against me. #1: Be late so that I can stay out through January 2010 & spend the holidays at home. My biggest wish was to be home through Christmas, which I have successfully achieved by working through this week. Well done, Harrison, for being at least 4 days overdue! However, issue #2: Be early enough to be a bridesmaid in one of my best friend’s weddings on October 17th. The bride & I both went into this knowing the calendar & understanding that it was not something we could control. I speak for both of us when I say “Duh.” But I’ve known her since the fourth grade. We did our Girl Scout Silver Award project together. & now we work together. HELL AND HIGH WATER COULD NOT KEEP ME FROM HER WEDDING. Nothing like putting pressure on my body & fetus, hmm? The first task was to be late. CHECK! The next task is to not be too late. POTENTIAL FAIL.

Because the wedding is next Saturday.

& my induction date is next Friday.

I cried. A big, fat, ugly cry all the way back to the office. Because I am still only 1cm dilated & 50% effaced. Because my cervix is still hard as a rock despite 2 weeks of sex & Primrose oil up the vag. She couldn’t even strip my membranes, nor was I open enough for the internal to even make me bleed. Because he still hasn’t dropped and engaged (-3 station for those of you that know pregnancy) despite walking & sitting on the exercise ball every night. Because I have a week more of work looming ahead of me when I can’t bend my fingers due to carpal tunnel. Because currently, the hospital has no induction openings until October 16th.

Because it is a punch in the gut to think that I may not be there for her on the biggest day of her life, after all we’ve been through together.

::sigh::

So…there’s my update. I’m sorry that it’s not perky. I’m sorry that it’s not overly hopeful, even though BY GOD I KNOW YOU CAN GO FROM 0 TO 10 IN ONE HOUR. I’m just literally biting my tongue & sitting on my hands to keep from slapping everyone I run into. As stated previously, in my heart & mind, I KNOW that they mean well. That it comes from a loving place of excitement. BUT YES, I AM WALKING EVERY NIGHT. NO, YOU DON’T NEED TO TEXT ME EVERY NIGHT TO MAKE SURE I’M HAVING SEX (because honestly, that’s kind of creepy). & SWEET GENTLE JESUS, I DO NOT WANT YOUR GRANMOTHER’S COUSINS AUNT’S BROTHER’S WIFE’S RECIPE FOR EGGPLANT.

& I’d love to try that pressure point thing. $10 to the first person that can find it through the 20 pounds of fluid

I’m sorry. I’m just…meh. That’s the only word to describe it.

::sigh::

I wanted this to be it so badly, but here I sit in bed feeling perfectly fine & normal while Nate snores beside me.

Also, just as a side note…I’ve been getting laid every night for the past two weeks. Lack of sex is not the reason for my cervix not cooperating, I promise.

I would like to have this baby within the next 24 hours, please.

& unless there’s a new trend for mother’s to return to work the day after delivery, I have not had the child. Obviously.

If the basketball under the shirt didn’t already scream that into your Spidey-senses.

Baby is still on lock-down, I’m still working, & it’s pretty much just a waiting game.

Scratch that. I’m actually not working today & taking sick time because I feel like crap on a stick. Deep-fried, since it’s almost state fair time. My throat hurts. My head hurts. My stomach hurts. Actually…I can’t really think of anything on me that doesn’t hurt or isn’t sloshing with fluid. So I decided to spend the day on the couch in jammies with a cup of coffee.

Except true to myself, my mind is already racing with things that I should/could/would get done — mop the floors. dust. make meatloaf & mashed potatoes for dinner. & brownies for dessert. take Tuck to the dog park. have a baby.

HAVE A BABY.

Which adds to the frustration. Because I KNOW he’ll come when he wants. & I want him to come when he & my body are both ready because that’s the way it’s supposed to happen. & I’m not THAT overdue, so I really shouldn’t be constantly bitching.

But It would be really awesome if I found myself sitting in a puddle of amniotic fluid in a moment or two.

Since I promised not to take pictures, I’ll just leave you with a visual. Remember this guy?

yeah, that’s what a mucus plug looks like. Minus the hair. & the ability to fly during a sweeping cinematic ballad.

oh, p.s. as of yesterday, I was one centimeter! One glorious, lone centimeter in one night! ’tis time to throw confetti & break out the champagne!!

It’s the “advice” at work from the accounting assistant. In the coffee shop from the teenager behind the counter. From my father-in-law, who knows nothing of birth or childbearing. On Facebook.

I am exhausted of this conversation:
Friend/Family/Stranger: “Have you had the baby yet?”
Me: “No, not looking like it for another week or two!” You know, blase. Not stressed out, just taking it all in stride.
Friend/Family/Stranger: “He could come anytime!! You never know!” ::wink wink nudge nudge::

EFF. OFF.

I know. I’m over-reacting. People mean well & at my core, I appreciate their desire to reassure & encourage me. But NOTHING makes my hormones flare like unsolicited advice when I’m just. trying. to. keep. my. damn. cool. When I spend my entire brain power flip-flopping from being so incredibly frustrated that I have not progressed in 3 weeks versus knowing I can go from 0-10 cm in mere hours. It’s mentally exhausting, so when you toss hormonal over-reaction into the equation…I feel like I’m 2.5 seconds away from exploding.

Because I KNOW that labor can happen with no symptoms. But 3 days away from my due date, 2 days in a row in the doctor’s office, & still ZERO progress…I start feeling overwhelmed. Like I’m drowning in pregnancy. Like I will NEVER EVER have this baby. & although I know that’s borderline medically impossible, a flippant retort from my doctor that I could “easily” be pregnant another two weeks sent me right over the edge. I cried the entire way home.

Because yesterday, for the first time, I felt READY to meet my son. & the disappointment & dashing of that dream made me feel like I was sinking & drowning in this pregnancy.

So accounting assistant, unless you are an OB that moonlights as a number-cruncher, don’t pat my arm condenscendingly & tell me that most babies are late & not to worry. Because people don’t really know when they get pregnant. BITCH, I DO KNOW.

oh, and ZERO dilation. 50% effaced. Still not dropped.

It’s looking like I could easily be pregnant another two weeks since I am not remotely “inducable.”

I’ll update more later when I stop standing in a corner & screaming my bloody ears off.

Just in case they say, “Okay, you’re having a baby today!” when I go in to get checked at 3pm today.

So I’ll probably eat the entire pan of brownies, too. Just in case.

I should nap though, right? That sounds far more logical than climbing into the attic, pulling out Halloween decorations, & spending the early afternoon up to my elbows in spiders & fake cobwebs.