I had my 41-week appointment on Tuesday. I’m still pregnant. I’m 2.5 centimeters dilated. Nothing much else has changed. My doctor went ahead and stripped the membrane again. I requested it, even though I am sick with a terrible cold. And while the idea of going into labor and having to push with snot flying out of my face makes me kinda wanna die, I am ready to be done with this.
My brother and I went out for lunch directly following the appointment and I had some pretty intense contractions. But once we started walking back to the subway, they stopped entirely.
Speaking of the subway and other public places, I keep finding myself having the same conversation with strangers.
“When are you due?”
“Last week.”
At that point they usually let out the type of laugh accompanied by a gentle punch to the shoulder. You know, an, “Aww shucks! I bet!” type of laugh.
It’s like when you ask your boss when they need the project and they say, “Yesterday!” and you laugh because you totally get it. It’s of the utmost urgency! They need that project done, like, YESTERDAY.
Like that.
And then the stranger says something like, “Oh, yeah. It gets really hard at the end. You just want it to be over already. Soon. Soon!”
No, really. LAST WEEK. I think to myself. But I’m too tired to explain that this project was actually due last week and this kid ain’t paying a lick of attention to his boss.
CUJO: YOU’RE FIRED.
Yesterday, the conversation changed a bit. Em and I were at the indoor playroom and the woman behind the counter asked me when I was due.
“Last week.” I said.
She actually gasped as did young man sitting beside her.
“You are joking!” She yelled this. “But… but you look so happy! Why do you look so happy?”
“Because I’m drunk.”
Dead silence.
I had a non-stress test on Monday morning. The baby is totally fine, as is my blood pressure. The right amount of amnionic fluid surrounds him. All is well within the womb. That’s probably why he’s in no hurry. I have another non-stress test tomorrow morning. Here is a picture I took while hooked up to the monitors.
I swear I’m not voguing. My left hand just didn’t know where to go. I’ve been suffering from that a lot lately—what does one do with their extremities?
“Yeah, but you gotta put the other arm somewhere. You can either lay on it or shove it between your bodies. The only other option is to stretch it above your head. But sometimes my arm pops out of socket when I’m sleeping like that. So I was constantly searching for someplace to keep my arm…” –Brody
The annoying part about the non-stress test is the nurse kept coming in and pointing out all the useless contractions I was having. She was excited. I was not. I’ve been having useless contractions for weeks and weeks. Practice contractions! Dress rehearsal! I know one name this kid won’t be given: Braxton. Braxton = non-commital pussy—a useless piece of shit.
(Y’all do know I’m joking, right? I am not really THAT angry. And to anyone named Braxton: I am kidding. You are not a useless piece of shit but you might be a non-commital pussy.)
I don’t know what to say. I’m in holding pattern, purgatory. I’m a host. I don’t even feel like I really exist right now. I’m just waiting. I can’t do much. I can’t go far from home. I’m a zombie. But I do have a cool cat.
This is how I spend most of my days and nights.
I have a creature taking comfort on the inside; I have a creature taking comfort on the outside. I’m a host, a giant, fat zombie host.
Mornings are most difficult because they punctuate a most restless sleep. Everything seems pointless come morning, which is strange for me because I have always been a morning person. I love morning. Not right now.
At this point, induction is looking more and more appealing to me. I’m exhausted. And my exhaustion leads to tears and tears lead to more mucous and snot and congestion and I’m sick of all this snot.
Something has got to give, like, yesterday.
Murray looks like such a great cat.
I wish I could offer some comforting words, but I’ve never been pregnant–nothing worse than advice/comfort from someone who had no idea what she’s talking about. I am glad to hear that all is well medically.
Thinking about you and your family!
you look wonderful!!
oh about the cold thing. right near the end of my pregnancy with Vi i had a horrible chest “cold”, they think it was either pneumonia or H1N1, i couldn’t breathe… i was terrified of having to push with no breath…. the morning i went into labor i felt better!
a doctor i talked to said “i know it sounds weird, but i’ve never delivered a sick mother”… he said he believes the body just knows that there’s work to be done and gets you to the place you need to be. the cold returned a bit the day after she was born, but not nearly as bad.
good luck to you! the plus about having an overdue baby is that it wont be all gucky with that white crap when it comes out:)
Another plus about Cujo being late (besides what Shelly notes above) is that you won’t have to worry about breast feeding. By the time he shoots out, he might be two or three years old.
I’m trying to help here.
That is definitely one cool cat.
I’m praying the baby makes an appearance soon that way you can get some relief. I can’t imagine what you must be feeling, but I’m sure you’re ready for it to be over .
I keep checking back to see if you’ve gone into labor, we’re waiting with baited breath! Is that weird?!
I remember thinking this baby is NEVER coming out that it’s going to go all through elementary school in my belly.
I didn’t have a cold at 41 weeks but we did have a heatwave. Sweaty, sticky and swollen.
I stopped telling people when I was due because I knew they’d say something stupid and I had no patience or filter left.
I was scheduled for induction and I STILL had to wait. The hospital was supposed to call me when they had space for me and it took another 2 days for that to happen.
You’ll get back your personhood. You won’t be a zombie anymore.
What GAVM said about less gucky is true. Cujo might also be a bit wrinkly from staying in the bath too long.
Thinking about you and willing Cujo to join us soon.
I went 9 days over with my daughter, and now I am 38 + 3 with my son…and I ALREADY feel like I am going to go crazy if this kid doesn’t come out soon. They were going to induce me by day 9 if I hadn’t gone into labor, so day 7 I took castor oil in orange juice….now as disgusting as this was ( the flavor was manageable, the diarrhea….gross but do-able) it worked like a charm. Took Castor Oil and Orange Juice at 6pm, Contractions started at 9pm, she was born 1.5 days later…very slow and progressive labor, but still not induced. Give it a shot, the worst thats gonna happen is your bowels will be cleaned out for when you actually do go into labor so there will be no, (oops I crapped on the table) moments. Best case scenario, Baby 2 takes the hint and decides to emerge :) Good Luck!
I am mentally commanding that baby to come out! Hang in there.
When my doctor asked me about my birth plan I told her that it was “do what you are told is best, no induction”.
My daughter stopped growing at 36 weeks, so they induced at 37 weeks, I was very opposed to it, but referred back to rule 1, “do what you are told is best”.
I know it wasn’t your plan, but it was really nice to finally meet her.
I think I was only 37 weeks (or thereabouts) with Olivia and I went to get Cole from daycare. This grandmother picking up her kid goes: “When were you due? Yesterday?”
I was like: “_______.”
And then I thought: “What will I look like when I’m actually 40 weeks?”
People don’t mean to make you feel badly, but I always found comments like that slightly offhanded. I’m convinced there needs to be an etiquette book written that tells people the very best thing they can EVER say to a prego woman is how fantastic she looks. And leave it at that.
I cracked up when I read this from your post: “I have a creature taking comfort on the inside; I have a creature taking comfort on the outside. I’m a host, a giant, fat zombie host.”
I love it and can totally relate because Henry the cat was like with me too! It’s so hard not to live in the moment when you’re waiting waiting to go into labor, because every moment is so very hard, but just try to think about how in a few weeks time you will be settled with the new baby and enjoying his cuteness. And you’ll get to see how Emory interacts with him.
[That probably doesn’t help much. There really wasn’t much that helped me either. I had many teary moments when waiting for Olivia because it was so stinking hot outside and Cole was an insane toddler. Anyway, the point is that the time will come and it will be wonderful.]
Everytime a post of your pops up on my feed, I’m like ” SHE HAD THE BAAAAAAA-Oh. Shit, that must suck.”
Sending you labor-inducing vibes, if such a thing ever exists.
I feel you, girl – hang in there! I have a 5-week old who was born at 41 weeks, 1 day. I drank myself a castor oil cocktail to get those contractions going…not sure if I recommend it or not, given the nasty side effects, but it definitely made me go into labor awfully quick. I labored at home for 7 hours and was at 8 cm when I walked into L&D triage. You’re almost there!
Oh Mihow, how I feel for you. I was there with Isabel. She was 42 weeks and still wouldn’t come. She was not coming out until they had to go in and get her.
Hang on girl, he won’t be in there forever….
If it makes you feel any better my sister is preggo too. She is not due until March 23rd. At this point she is a big as she was in the final weeks of pregnancy with her 4 year old. This baby is going to be huge. They already measured baby #2’s feet at being 3 inches long…. Dead serious! Make sense since her husband is 6’5”!
Anyway, I feel for ya sista!
Michelle, I just want to say that I LOVE the picture with Murray! He is very cool! When I look at that picture, I just see how comforted Murray is on the outside and how comforted Cujo must be on the inside. No zombies there, just comfort.
I don’t have any smart words of advice…no kids here, just 8 nieces and nephews! But I wish you the best of luck and for the pregnancy torture to be over soon so that you and your family can meet beautiful little Cujo.
You had me at “giant, fat zombie host.” Yep, I was there too. I did the castor oil, half a dose was enough to get the show on the road. You’re almost there — sending you good thoughts from south brooklyn.
Oooh baby! I know you’re exhaustion. I was 2 weeks late. Had to be induced. The little bugger was not coming out. I was sooooooo done.
Wishing you lots of baby birthing thoughts from Los Angeles. XO
just have to say that i think you look so lovely during your stress test. Love the photography and because i am a week behind on my reading – CONGRATS!!!!