I’m running low on prenatal vitamins. So low that I actually counted them out to see if the bottle of pills perhaps holds the magic eight ball answer as to when I will go into labor. According to the number left, I’ll be going into labor on Monday, after lunch.
We bought the boys squeezable greek yogurt, which is something new that they’ve started carrying at our local store. I’ve been hijacking the grape because it tastes just like grape bubbilicious gum. I eat greek yogurt almost daily while pregnant because of the protein content. I’ll be writing Chobani and requesting that make the grape flavor in the adult size so I don’t have to feel like a tool.
I don’t recommend sex at 41 weeks pregnant. Sure, this might be TMI, but it needs to be said for all the people who suggested it. I want to punch each of you in the face.
I know I said I was done with all the natural labor induction techniques, but I did try some acupuncture points because I figure at least those are reminiscent of a foot rub. And I did have some pretty strong contractions that for a few hours were coming pretty regularly. Alas, I’m still pregnant.
When I told Willy I was “over the wait”, he suggested I open the envelope that unlocks the answer to the gender of our baby. I told him the truth, which is I still don’t care – at all – about the gender, I just want to meet the damn booger.
The whole Pisces versus Aires thing has been weighing on my mind more than it should. I suppose you start to hang onto stupid shit at this point. So even though I have an induction date tentatively set for Tuesday (I’ll still push it off if all checks out fine), I’d really rather the baby come before Sunday because after that, it’s an Aires. I’m a Cancer and I favor water and earth signs. I dated a fire sign and he was a dick.
I find myself willing my water to break to the point where I’ll actually reach down to feel if my pants are wet; like I can sometimes fool myself into believing there is a sensation of water trickling down my leg. It’s crazy how strong our minds are… so easy to fool ourselves into believing. In actuality, only something like 15% of labors start with the rupture of membranes but I’m so jealous of those that get that definitive start. I wish.
I’ve done really well to keep an eye on my weight this pregnancy; not because I gained a lot in my last pregnancies but because my babies end up getting so big. My last midwife suggested I go on a 25 lbs weight gain limit should I get pregnant again. I’ve held to it but these last few weeks have been the most difficult. I deserve cheesecake and chocolate, dammit. In any event, since last week I’ve lost two pounds which is a sign labor is coming, though I’ll believe it when I feel it.
I spread the simplest of tasks out over days; like the loads of laundry that I literally took four days to complete. And now they’re done and I’m back to twiddling my thumbs. I even threw in some stuff to constitute a hospital bag, which is something I’ve never showed up to the hospital with and consequently wasn’t high on my to-do list. I wasn’t even sure what to include but ultimately I put the following: some clothes, a onesie and blanket, toiletries, a couple protein bars (I don’t follow the ‘no food’ during labor rule), and a grip of chocolate.
The fish bowl is cleaned and I got a pedicure for the first time in at least a year.
I bought more girl clothes. I still hold strong that I don’t care about the gender but man it’s going to be hard returning some of these girl clothes should it be a boy… Is liking girl clothes reason enough to put one gender higher on the want list than the other?
I’ve been fulfilling all the orders that come in via The Bee & The Fox either the same or next day. It’s my hope to leave as little for Willy in that respect as possible but man, it’s been weeks of doing orders on the daily and I’m drained. And grateful, really.
A friend mentioned that she ate a lot of pineapple toward the end of her pregnancy. I’ve been eating pineapple daily since I found out I was pregnant. I now feel like pissing on what’s left of the pineapple in the fridge and telling it to go cause sores in someone else’s mouth.
I went to the doctor yesterday. I’m now 4 cm and 80% effaced. He said he “doesn’t know” why I’m not in labor. I seriously feel like I’m going to dilate all the way to 10 cm and still not be in active labor.
I’ve stayed away from google much of this pregnancy and it wasn’t really hard, to be honest. But you know what I’m spending my time asking google these days? Really dumb questions like “when am I going to go into labor?”. I’m telling you, I’ve reached the point of no return. I can’t get out of my own way. I’ve been on the magic eight ball webpage and I’m completely and utterly ashamed.
I sleep really well until about 4 am and then I’m wide awake, worrying about everything. Last night I spent the wide-eyed moments researching recommended pitocin dosages, should I need to be induced. I’m sure I was overloaded in my labor with Hooper. It’s relieved some anxiety and has also given me the opportunity to discuss with my OB how he writes his order for induction via pitocin so I at least feel as though I have something to hold him to should we have to cross that bridge.
When your looking for hope in any little crevice, I mean I googled ‘the magic eight ball’ for goodness sakes, researching signs of impending labor can be maddening. You want so desperately for someone or something to give you some affirmation and, with labor, you just don’t get anything of the sort. Instead you get things like “this means you can hurry up and wait” or, my favorite, “this means that labor may start in a few hours or within the next several days”. I took an online labor quiz, because I told you I’m desperate, and one of the questions asked if your pet has been more clingy. It went on to say that this could mean it senses labor coming on or that they may just love you. No definitive answers, ever. Pregnancy is a true test of patience.