Tomorrow I will be 36 weeks pregnant. For those math whizzes among you, you will quickly see that this is also known as 9 months. Many people aren't aware that a standard pregnancy is ten months, 40 weeks, but still. What we're talking about here is a pretty much done deal.
Today I was at the doctor, who pronounced me ready to roll. He said, and I quote, "You're free to deliver any time, at your convenience!" I have the green light– which is all my uterus has been waiting to hear. Such a good uterus! So polite. Ben has made a request, however. "Just do it in the day time, will you? Why must it be the middle of the night? I can't deal with that. Why not a Friday afternoon? That would be so much better."
Don't tempt me– Tomorrow is FRIDAY.
Just on cue, I'm having a mild contractions right now!
Isaac was born at 36 weeks, plus one day. That means, the time to beat is Saturday.
My entire mindset has shifted also. Instead of dreading and fearing the onset of labor, now I'm sort of… almost… wishing it would come along, sometime soon. I KNOW this is irrational in that a c-section is not a fun experience. Unfortunately, being me, I have zero amnesia about what it was like last time. No, I remember it all too clearly, and it was quite quite miserable for the first 48 hours or so. The whole first week, really, was no picnic. But then it got better quickly after that, at least in terms of my pain quotient and my ability to move from place to place in the bed, the room, the whole house!
Also, I really would like to get to the point where the incubator is not in the picture at all. Just a baby breathing real air, out in the world, in my arms. I hated it last time that I only got to see and hold Isaac like ten minutes twice a day. Now that I know about kangaroo care (skin to skin contact that has been shown scientifically to be a great help to preemies) I would push for it hard this time. But last time, the separation from in utero to down the hall and far away was really startling and harsh for both Isaac and me. I have no wish to repeat that, which means, stay in there kid for another week.
Also, lest I forget, caring for a newborn is hard no matter what. I think it has to be easier in some regards if you are not exclusively breastfeeding and just hand the baby off to someone else while sleeping in large rejuvenating swathes of time. Not a care for nipple confusion nor the whole supply-demand system of breastmilk getting off to a poor start! But breastfeeding is way too important to me (and of course to the baby!) to do that. So that means the rough road of trying to recover from major surgery on only these little samples of sleep between feedings. it's grueling. So what's the rush? Let's just put it off for a while more. The ultimate time horizon is October 6, 39 weeks, when I would have a scheduled c-section. (This would be especially nice, because it's also the birthday of my favorite uncle, John.)
Only three weeks away, and that's the max!
Today Dr. Philipson put it this way, "I'm going to put this on the schedule for October 6, but we're not going to make it."
Clear, direct, concise.
The only things coming along to make me wish for this whole thing to go down sooner are: 1) I'm tired of feeling like a giant walrus, trying to roll myself over in bed with only these tiny flippers; 2) I like breathing, and I miss it so; 3) I wish that sometimes, just once in a while, I could put the baby down and walk away; 4) my bladder and stomach have taken such a beating, I really feel they are due for a break and 5) I'm just plain curious and excited to meet this little person! See who he or she is and what s/he looks like. It's just naked curiosity and eagerness to know, girlish impatience about one of the best presents that life can bring. Christmas eve! I want morning to come! Also, okay, 6) I'm scared SCARED SCARED about the whole process and anxiety-wise I'd really like to have it in the rear view mirror, rather than up ahead around the next bend.
Anyway… there's no telling. Sassy seems to have this planned out for us. Meanwhile, I will at least try to not go into labor in the middle of the night, out of sympathy for poor Ben.
I took Isaac with me to the doctor today, which was due to childcare logistics, but also nice because Dr. Philipson hasn't seen Isaac since our six-week check-up so long ago. He was really happy to see the fruits of our labors. What was funny about it was that Isaac had his human body encyclopedia tucked under his arm, and very kindly opened it up to explain a few things to the doctor. Isaac is especially enamored of the bladder page, in which the size of the bladder is shown to range from a plum to a grapefruit, depending upon fullness. Also Isaac took a moment to show the "blue and green blood cells" (they were really viruses and germs). Dr. Philipson took this all in stride and asked Isaac more about the colors of the items in question, not dwelling on the fact that they weren't actually blood cells at all. Isaac also showed the doctor a photo of teeth and warned him of the perils of eating sweets. "They will rot your teeth right out of your head!"
Isaac very gallantly held my hand while Dr. Philipson put blue slimy stuff on my tummy to listen to Sassy's heartbeat.
He was revolted and appalled when I had to pee in a cup and hand the pee to the nurse!
Isaac also showed his book to the nurse, holding it politely so that she could see the cover while he peered down over it. "This book is all about the human body," he explained. "It tells everything about how I look inside, under my skin!"
She was duly impressed by this information. Isaac chewed his way through half a pack of gum, which I had brought to entertain him should things get boring. But my ace in the hole, a pez dispenser bearing the likeness of Princess Belle, was not required. I had it hidden in my purse lest I need to be monitored for an excruciating hour or something like that, but nothing happened along those lines. Boredom was an issue, but only briefly.
So…
Here we are.
What I will do, when the whole thing happens, after I'm cognizant and functional enough, is post a blog with the basic information. I think they have internet access in all the rooms at the hospital now. But even if not there will be a way to do it without too much hassle. This will be easier than getting together an e-mail list or something like that. For those of you who are not immediate family (who will be called, of course!) but still are interested in the outcome.
Watch this space.
Since writing this I think I've had four or five of my minor contractions. Hm. Could be nothing. Or… something.