Party of Three, But Not Yet

We went to the doctor today and the internal exam revealed that my cervix has not changed one bit since last week. Hrumph. The doctor kept apologizing as if I was upset. I can't really say I am upset, though the prospect of having up to two more weeks before delivery does make me feel like I might mentally decompensate. Pepps is kicking around and seems content to stay put so I am going with it.

For now.

Mostly, I was thinking today that it is such a privilege to have gotten this far. Carrying a baby to 39 weeks and 2 days seemed impossible back in November. It's a pretty amazing thing that the baby is happy hanging out in my body, giving me a few more precious days to get ready mentally and physically. This weekend we are taking an infant CPR class and a "How To Take Care of a Newborn," which seems like pretty relevant subject matter for us. Nothing like cutting it close on the baby preparation classes. We also found a place that will inspect our installation of the car seat, which turns out is a necessary service since 80% of American parents have NOT installed their car seats correctly.

So, I am ambivalent as ever. I just looked at my friend Ann's Facebook wall. Her baby girl is about 4 weeks old. Ann and her daughter look so happy and so cute. When I see those pictures, I get an ache inside of me and want this little squirming girl to come out and let me hold her and use all these cute baby products on her. Then, when I think about the responsibility and how small and fragile she will seem to me, then I think, "hey, kid, stay put, because we got a good thing going here."

When the doctor described some of the ways that she might help induce labor if I am not dilated next week, I felt a little light-headed. She said something about a catheter and that it would be "not pleasant." You have to assume that when a medical professional tells you that something she will inflict on you will be "not pleasant," then, it's going to hurt so bad it will chip off my pedicure. Can't wait.

People keep asking me what my intuition says about when she will come. Honestly, my intuition is so clouded by the growing anxiety and anticipation that it's quite difficult these days to get quiet and still and listen to my inner voice. Also, I have been having horrible nausea and headaches, which means that every time I sit still and put myself in a position to do any listening, I fall dead asleep in that thick, molasses-y, "I don't feel good," sort of sleepy, drooly way. The nearest I can get to my intuition is that some time next week I will meet this little girl who knocked some joy in me one kick at a time.

My intuition also says I will never ever tape a bow to her little bald head, because I think that looks stupid.

In the meantime, I think every gas bubble is a contraction, which is nerve wracking for someone who eats as many beans as I do. I have one more load of baby wash to do and am trying to hold out on getting that last pre-birth pedicure-- you know, the really important things to prepare me for motherhood. I am sleeping as much as I can and trying to return phone calls now, because who knows when I will have the luxury of laying around and talking on the phone after Pepps comes.

I am also desperately hoping this process isn't waiting on me to resolve my ambivalence, because that's going to take longer than balancing the state of California's budget. I am told this isn't up to me so I pray for surrender and to be made ready and available for this, and hope to get the prayer out before I start drooling on my pillow.