I’m supposed to have a baby in two weeks. And I had forgotten about this up until today. You see, I don’t hold my breath when it comes to these “due dates” everyone talks about when they talk about having babies. Both of my boys had to be evicted. Emory was kicked out 4 days past-due because I suddenly started having high blood pressure. That didn’t end up being the best birth story of all time. But I really don’t want to get myself too worked up about childbirth right now, so I’ll stop right there. If you wish to read that long-ass, boring birth story, you may do so here. (Chapters are linked from that post. That post was written last.)
With Elliot, things were a touch different. I went into that pregnancy with the intention of avoiding an induction and letting labor come “naturally”. (I have always loathed that word when it comes to describing childbirth, hence the quotes. There’s no such given definition, ladies. So stop suggesting otherwise. And stop acting smug about your choices and making others feel bad. Just stop.)
Anyway, Elliot’s due date came and went. And I mean I knew his due date. I knew his due date because I knew down to the minute when he was conceived. I have calendars and notebooks FULL of calculations, treatments and insane scribbles that went into trying to pregnant. And while he was a miracle baby—a complete surprise conceived naturally after a year and a half of fertility treatments from one of the best doctors in the United States—he was still scrutinized down to the very last ovulation predictor stick.
Oh, yes. I knew his due date.
Well, he too ended up being late. But since they started monitoring me at 40-weeks, I also knew he was safe the entire time. I became a regular in the ultrasound department at New York Presbyterian where they measured my amnionic fluid, his heartbeat and his size. Since everything was A-OK, I was told I could wait a bit longer.
And wait, I did. I went 15 days past my due date. That’s when my doctor did what OBGYN doctors should do in my opinion: she scheduled an induction. That induction went smoothly. And I had that booger out in 5 pushes.
All this to say, I am wildly cynical when it comes to due dates. And I know damn well not to assume this guy will actually come early. My boys just don’t do that sort of thing. And that belief was backed up last week when I visited my doctor and she informed me that my cervix was completely shut. Not even half a centimeter to work with. Nada.
On the other hand, people keep telling me that since this is is my third child he may just fall out of me. You may have heard about the woman who gave birth on a New York City sidewalk. That was her third baby. My younger brother (my mom’s third) came out quickly. And while the idea of getting a baby out quickly appeals to me, my plan is to have this baby at the same NYC hospital I had the other two. So, “falling out of me” isn’t really something I’m interested in especially since there’s a river, a shitload of potholes, traffic and a tunnel between myself and that hospital.
Still, the thought has never crossed my mind that he may actually come out on his own. Well, not until this morning.
I woke up at 6:30 in order to shower before the house explodes with the stressfulness that comes with getting everyone out the door on time. I don’t sleep for more than 3 hours at a time anymore thanks to having a bladder the size of a lima bean. Couple that with the battering of a watermelon-sized baby into said tiny bladder, and I’m always on the toilet. I’d been up an hour earlier to pee, so I was confused when I noticed something dripping down my inner thigh.
That’s when I had the following conversation:
“Are you peeing yourself?”
“Yes, I am peeing myself.”
“But you just peed an hour earlier!”
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you. I peed myself.”
“You’re so gross.”
So I sat down to pee and nothing came out.
“Well, that’s weird.”
It wasn’t until after I’d showered and gotten dressed did I begin to ponder the idea that my water had broke. You see, I’ve never actually experienced that before. That was always done for me. So I have no idea what it looks like, what it smells like, how much of it comes out, if it’s colored. I know nothing about such things.
Did my water break?
I googled and decided no. I’m just a disgusting pregnant woman with incontinence, another glorious side-effect of being 9 months pregnant. But peeing myself did give me the wakeup call I needed.
“You’re going to have a baby soon.”
And that’s not something I’d given much thought up until today. And I wish I were kidding. But it hasn’t occurred to me that we’re going to have another family member living with us in a few weeks. It hasn’t occurred to me that I need to buy pads, diapers, Mylicon, wipes, diaper rash cream. It hasn’t occurred to me that I need to find a local pediatrician for that immediate, post-birth checkup. It hasn’t occurred to me that I need to make sure I can fit THREE children in the back of our RAV4. None of this occurred to me until this morning when I pissed myself while getting into the shower. And while that was slightly humiliating, I guess it’s the wakeup call I needed.
I am going to have a baby soon.
Here’s hoping the baby “falls out” approximately 2 minutes after you land your incontinent self on the hospital bed!
I keep trying to “like” comments here and realize that I’m not on Facebook. Sigh. YES! But preferably also after I get some drugs. I don’t like pain. I am not interested in pain. No thanks.
2.5 weeks ago, I was in the same mindset as you! I was DONE being pregnant yet still in denial that I was about to have a third child. In fact, when the doctor told me it was time to start pushing, I started crying because I really wasn’t ready for another baby. I hadn’t accepted it yet. Well, maybe 10 minutes later, my baby girl was in my arms. I was a mom of three whether I was ready or not.
The first 5-7 days were tough. I didn’t want to leave the hospital because I had so much help there! At home, it would be my over-worked husband and me with three young kids. The postpartum hormones are messing with me but everything finally feels right. I was meant to have this third child. Also, it has been way easier caring for two kids and a newborn than caring for two kids and being 9 months pregnant (if that helps).
I’m only 2.5 weeks into it but I just wanted to share my story with you because our pregnancies were close together and I really wasn’t ready for a baby either. Once this damn winter goes away and we have some nice weather, I think that will really help too. Hang in there and congratulations!
Here’s to everything happening as it should, as peacefully and pain-free as possible and that you and the new little guy are both healthy and happy!
Oh, this post had me laughing in several places. I see you haven’t lost your sense of humor. Good luck to you, lady! Can’t wait to “meet” your newest addition.