It’s good because there’s more room for me to breathe, I can sit upright without squishing-related discomfort, and most importantly, it means we probably won’t have any breech-related complications. Once his head is locked and loaded, it’s difficult for him to unlock himself. Not that he hasn’t been trying. The “bad” is mostly related to whole new levels of discomfort. My poor, abused bladder is experiencing all new fun, which means extra trips to the bathroom (at a time when I need to be increasing my water intake to prep for labor), plus, he’s got extra access to his favorite pillow/punching bag. He’s also pressing on new parts of my body causing strange twinges and tingles and more than a little pain. All of this will continue to increase in intensity and magnitude as the weeks progress and he gets heavier and slips even further into position.

Yay fun yay.

I’m also transitioning from the mostly useless Braxton Hicks contractions to the Real Deal. This transition period (which is probably going to last a month, too), involves strange quasi-contractions that just make me feel nervous. They’re not exactly labor starting, but at any time they could be the thing that happens right before labor starts. When I get a wave (some days I get 2 or 3, other days I’m relatively wave-less) I have to sit and chill and try to not to wonder if I’m going to go into labor in a couple of hours. When these odd episodes happen near or after bed time, I can loose a few hours staying up with an overly-loud mind.

All of this new fun was leading up to a doctor’s appointment on Thursday that I was really looking forward to. At 36 weeks, not only was I going to get a sonogram to see just how big Elliott was getting, but I was going to get to talk to my doctor about these changes and get some serious soothing. I was looking forward to the calm mind that would make sleeping better and to having a better idea of when “next” is going to occur.

Nothing went the way I’d planned.

Before I start, let me say that I love my doctor and my doctor’s office. I’ve been going there for yearly checkups for years and years, and this is the end of my second pregnancy with this office. The administrative staff is as friendly and considerate as can be. The nurses(?) that do most of the prep work (take my vitals, test my pee, interview me before the doctor sees me, etc) are awesome and friendly and competent. Even the blood tech that just hangs out waiting to stick people is nice and superb at her job. I’m an easy target, but she makes the pricks near painless.

But.

The other doctor in the practice and the nurse practitioner are just not as cool as my doctor. I’ve seen them when I needed to with very little drama other than some grousing that they’re not my doc, so the “level of care” wasn’t really of concern. They just have different ways of talking to pregnant patients that I just don’t care for.

Thursday, I really needed to see my doctor, but she was held up with some surprise deliveries and surgeries, so after my sonogram, I was going to see the NP. I took a deep breath and focused on the fact that in a few weeks, it might be my emergency surgery that’s keeping my doctor from seeing patients and I wouldn’t want her to rush back to her office then. This helped keep most of the tears and frustration at bay, but not all of it. Almost any previous appointment would have been fine, but just not this one, you know?

First up was the sonogram. The tech was running late and rushing to catch up, so when she called us in, she asked “What are we here to look at?” I was taken aback. Who trusts a patient to tell you that? Isn’t there a sheet or something that tells you what you need to do? So I briefly went through our history with the sonograms and that the doc thought he might be a bit big, so this was to check that out. Was there a standard set of things to look for when you’re checking that out? I don’t know. I’m not a professional. If I hadn’t been lurking on some forums, I wouldn’t have even thought about worrying about fluid levels. If i hadn’t asked, would she have done that, too? I don’t know. I was not full of confidence. Even though this was my 4th sonogram for this child and my second child, she still treated me like an idiot and was more than a little patronizing. I took deep breaths and tried to remain calm while she went about her work.

Oh, and Elliott’s fine. He’s measuring 6.5 lbs right now, which is apparently about the 54th percentile. The placenta is still where it belongs and all his parts are working just fine. We even got to see him “breathe” at one point. Fluid levels are normal, he’s still a boy, etc, etc. I know that finding nothing when you look is a good thing, but still, I felt like this was a waste of time and money since there was nothing out of the ordinary. We couldn’t even get any good pictures. Being almost at term, he’s so bit it was hard to really capture anything. Ah Well. Better safe than surprised.

On the heels of that frustration, it was time to visit with the NP. She wouldn’t be able to definitively tell me anything, but I knew I’d get to talk to my doc in 6 days. If something had been abnormal on the sonogram, I would have been more of a wreck, but since my doc was going to look over the notes and pictures herself, I was less concerned about talking with the NP.

She was as I remembered from my 6 week “we don’t schedule you with the doctor until we’re sure you’re pregnant” visit. I didn’t feel listened to as much as I said certain things and she repeated the textbook’s response that my statement triggered. Which, being a textbook reader myself, I knew already. We had a couple of exchanges that went something like this:

Me: I’m having these weird episodes where it doesn’t feel quite like a Braxton Hicks but it’s not a full contraction. I’ll have maybe 2 or 3 in a half-hour or so, but then nothing after that for hours.

Her: If you have more than 4 contractions in an hour, then you need to call us or head to the hospital.

Me: ….Well….I don’t think these are really contractions, are they? I mean, they don’t really hurt and it doesn’t feel like the uterus is contracting as much as everything just feels weird for a moment or two.

Her: Just be sure that if you have more than 4 contractions in a hour that you call someone. We’d probably try to stop you from going into labor for the next week or so.

Me: 6 days until i talk to my doctor…6 days until i talk to my doctor.

I still mentioned everything I needed to mention, in case there was a real red-flag in there, but I didn’t hold my breath that she was going to say anything useful. I also didn’t bother asking what the plan would be regarding a possible early induction, because at best she would repeat the possibilities that my doctor had laid out in an earlier appointment. She did (roughly) check my girly bits to see if there was any progress on that front and there wasn’t, so I was even more content to wait the 6 days to have a conversation with my doctor.

You know what’s coming, don’t you?

Friendly Appointment Scheduler: You need to come back in a week, right?

Me: Yes. But on Wednesday is my normal day.

FAS: [Your Doctor] isn’t going to be in on Wednesday.

Me: whimper

FAS: In fact, she’s not going to be in at all next week.

Me: do not cry. do not cry. do not cry. Better next week than the week after. do not cry. do not cry. I’m sorry. I was just really looking forward to seeing *her*.

FAS: Well, she has some hours on Friday. Let me see if there’s something still available. …. How does 11am work?

Me: Yes, please. Thank you.

So it’s 8 days instead of 6, but at this point, it’s still with my doctor. The good news is that since everything’s normal and I haven’t started the expulsion process, I don’t have to start freaking out because he’s more likely to come early instead of on-time-ish.

Between the lack of my doctor (I doubt she’s on call this week) and a sudden overnight business trip for Ryan, Elliott is flat out not allowed to emerge this week.

I hope he’s listening.

You see, here’s what I don’t want to happen:

Concerned Party: How are you feeling?

Me: Okay, I guess. My back hurts and tylenol can only do so much after I’ve over-extended myself, which I can’t stop doing because I have a toddler and a life and neither one cares that I feel like crap. I can’t sleep because my joints hurt and I’m freaked out. My allergies are bugging me and I can’t seem to shake this cold because the medicine I take for that doesn’t work as well right now. Plus, I can’t breathe thanks to the kid that’s hanging out where my lungs are supposed to expand. I’m kinda panicked about having a second kid and how not-ready our home is for a second child. Oh, and I shouldn’t have a soda or a glass of wine or whatever that fruity thing is you’re drinking, so I’m pretty bummed out by this glass of ice water.

CP Response #1: Well, you’re pregnant! What’d you expect?

CP Response #2: Well, you’re the one that chose to get pregnant again!

CP Response #3 (that I don’t actually get, but I would probably give or at least think really loudly if the situations were reversed): Wow. Complain much? Sorry I asked.

I can’t help but feel like I’m giving the impression I’m a whiner, when really nothing is “wrong”. The end of pregnancy just sort of sucks so if you ask me how I’m feeling and I give you details, that’s what they are. Responding with “fine” doesn’t work in these situations because people are actually inquiring about my health. Plus, “fine” is clearly a lie. I may only be 7.5 months pregnant, but according to various reports, I’m carrying around over 8 months of baby. That’s beyond the point when things start to get miserable again.

To avoid that version of the conversation, here’s what usually happens:

CP: How are you feeling?

Me: Pregnant. (or if it’s a particularly rough day/moment) Really Pregnant.

CP: (laughs) Well that’s obvious. Everything okay?

Me: Yeah, I’m just pregnant. Everybody’s fine and healthy, but being this pregnant feels like crap.

CP: Well, it won’t be long now (or) Looking forward to being done?

Me (stifling panic attack): Oh, he’s still got plenty of baking to do and the house isn’t quite ready for him. But it’ll be fine. Now if you’ll excuse me, I really need to get more water and sit down. Enjoy your daiquiri.

Everyone’s happy! People who are actually interested in or feel like prying further can get a litany of complaints, or a brief discussion of why I’m feeling extra crappy and how big the baby might be/get before it’s time to deliver. Occasionally this turns into a discussion about how difficult two babies can be, which I either faux-laugh off or confess that I’m actually a bit panicked about that, depending on my audience.

So that’s what I tell ‘em. Even my doctor. When it comes down to it, I’m just pregnant and it’s hardly newsworthy. I know that with 10 weeks to go, I’m only going to feel more pregnant before it gets “better” and that likely I’ll be begging to start the post-birth stage because even though “better” just means “different,” different can be very good.

there are two kinds of induction stories. the first kind, as previously mentioned is the “omg did it ever suck and then i had to get a c-section anyway” kind. the second, of which i knew only one actual incident (detailed by deborah in the comments), is the “i blinked and i had a baby” kind.

allow me to add another :)

we arrived at the hospital around 10pm. after checking in, getting setup in the room, getting an IV and all that swell stuff, it was determined that i was *still* 3cm and 80%. they started me on a low dose of pitocin with plans to progress after 4am. we spent about 4 hours not-quite sleeping. i think i maybe got 10 minutes of actual unconsciousness out of the whole thing, but was lulled into a semi-sedated state by the rhythm of charlotte’s heartbeat on the baby monitor…when she stayed still enough for it to pick it up anyway.

around 4:15, my water was artificially broken and the pitocin was kicked up a notch. contractions (which had been relatively non-existent for the last 4), began in earnest. i understood what “not being able to talk through them” meant. i can’t imagine waiting for that stage before even going to the hospital. an hour later, the pain had sufficiently eclipsed my apprehension about an epidural.

by 5:45, i was all set up. epidurals are one of the greatest inventions ever. yes, the concept is freaky, and the installation was unnerving (missing story goes here), but once it’s in? wowsers. it’s like sitting in a jacuzzi, only without the water. my legs were warm and heavy and slightly tingly and i felt wonderful.

after a brief visit by the grandparents around 6:15ish, i was checked again. 4cm and 95% effaced. progress! we were told that they’d check up on us every so often (2ish hours) to see how we were doing. in the mean time, if i felt any pressure with the contractions, or desire to push, i should let them know.

at 7am we took a nap.

at 8 i woke up because i was feeling pressure.

at 8:15 it was determined that not only had i slept the rest of active labor (the 4-7cm growth phase), but all of transition (the awful, worst part of the whole process jump from 7-10cm). charlotte’s head was already making it’s way down the chute. after discussing the options (start pushing now, or see how much longer i can hold out), we decided to wait until the pressure/pushing urge became a bit stronger. since we were both doing fine, it would lessen the amount of time we spent in active pushing.

calls were made, waiting parents were informed that the baby would likely be coming in the next hour or so.

at 8:40ish, my doctor showed up to start her morning rounds. she assessed the situation and said “you’re having this baby now. i’m not even going to check on my other charges.”

at 8:50 we started the process up with a couple of practice pushes (there’s a breathing/pushing rhythm to each contraction). fortunately, my epidural was the perfect strength to feel the contraction coming, plus the pressure, but without any pain. it helped us time the pushing better than we would have otherwise.

she crowned on the first practice.

she crowned a bit more on the second, while the doctor was finishing setting everything up.

then we pushed for real.

then again.

about 1/3 of the way through the first push of the 3rd set charlotte’s head popped out. the rest of her would have as well, had the doctor not caught her and yelled “stop!” at me.

moments later, at 9:12am, she was born.

i’m still in shock over how fast and smooth the entire thing went.

there’s lots more to share about today…well, yesterday, but i’m fading insanely fast at this point and i need save my strength for the feeding that’s about to occur.

now > distracting myself with this blog entry. finding cranberry juice filling, but less satisfying by the hour.

next > …no clue. hoping to get a call by 11pm. may lay down again. at least all this waiting is pushing frustrated to the top of the emotional list, diminishing my anxiety down to near-nil.

i’m pretty scared.

i know inductions happen “all the time” and that most of the books i’ve read have at least a slight bias against them, especially when they’re elective, so i’m trying very hard to take all the perils they describe with a grain of salt. i just wish i had more stories of good inductions. so many of them (okay, maybe 3 of 4?) go along the lines of “omg, it hurt so bad and then i had to have a c-section anyway”. i’m worried about the stress my body’s going to go through. i’m worried about the stress charlotte is going to go through even more.

i don’t know how much of this is really related to induction, though. i’m sure at least some of it is simply labor-related anxiety. i do not handle unknowns well at all, even good ones or “no big deal” ones. monday’s visit to the hospital was uneventful, it at least killed one of the primary things that was concerning me. i’ve been to the hospital many times to visit folks. i walked my husband through the doors when he had to have his gallbladder removed, but i’ve never been a patient myself. as silly as that sounds, not having any experience checking in, having to put on a gown, and being the person in the bed was sort of freaking me out. at least now that’s behind me.

so, my plan for today is to finish up my breakfast/only meal of the day, which consists of 2 slices of cinnamon raisin toast, a hearty glass of cranberry juice and a can of dr. pepper. from 10:30 on out, it’s clear non-caffeinated bevvys for me, which pretty much means water.

at 11, i’ll take a shower. who knows when i’ll get another one, so i’d like to maximize how clean i feel as long as possible.

at 12, we’ll just wait for the phone to ring. there’s tv, the internet, and if we’re feeling very ambitious, dishes in the dishwasher that can be put away.

according to the most recent set of instructions, if nobody calls me by 5pm, i need to call them.

and that’s about all i can control at this point, which will have to be enough.

3:20 – we head in.

4:00 – we check in. it’s determined that my pre-registration didn’t take, so i re-register. i get gowned up, inspected, etc. we watch charlotte’s heartbeat and my contractions on the monitor for a while. charlotte is fine. it’s determined that i have not budged (still 3cm/80%)

5:00 – 6:00 – we walk the halls of the L&D, NICU, WeU (Women’s evaluation unit), and try to shake some progress out. contractions get steadily worse and regular.

6:00 – i still have not budged. they discuss sending me home, but the uptake in contractions means we wait to see if there’s been progress.

6:30ish – still no progress. charlotte is still fine. they talk about discharging me.

7:15ish – the discharge nurse comes in. gives me a pep talk. points out that i’m just not budging and i could stay there and be miserable for 7+ hours while i wait, or i could go home and nap and eat and such. am given a list of distinct signs to look for (not being able to talk, broken water, really-real bloody show) to come back. contractions are now more painful than any menstrual cramping i’ve ever had and are anywhere from 3-6 minutes apart. am told to ignore that.

7:30ish – when i get up post-peptalk to change back into my clothes, i discover i’m bleeding. and not post-exam like. bloody-show like. discharge nurse comes back in. frowns at the blood, checks me out again. i still have not budged. i’m still going to go home.

7:45ish – leave the hospital knowing i don’t get to come back until i can’t talk through a contraction or my water breaks, no matter what else happens in the mean time. am pretty confident that i’m going to end up giving birth on the living room floor. hope that amniotic fluid makes a good floor polish. as predicted, really horrible awful contractions start to taper off a bit. instead of engaging in conversation through the contractions, i “prove” i can still talk by reciting warmup exercises from theatre. “What a to-do” gets me mostly through each contraction if i take it slow. consider switching to sonnet 116.

8:30ish – arrive home via morning rush-hour traffic. sleep. it is difficult at first, but then comes easier. get up every couple of hours to pee, drink water, feel these fun contractions. faux-show tapers off to normal post-inspection style. have lots of dreams where i’m carrying heavy things and assume they’re coinciding with contractions.

now – heading to lion’s choice for “breakfast.” still contracting fairly regularly, but it doesn’t even interrupt typing, much less walking or talking. :)

the last … 3 contractions have been less than 10 minutes apart and all not-weak. still not something i can’t walk/talk through, but strongest yet, certainly. long enough that i can feel them start, peak, and back off, which is pretty new, too. before that we had a run of 15ish minute deals, with varying intensities.

i think this might be the start of “it” :)

i have one concern right now: charlotte. (i mean, duh, but a specific charlotte-related concern) she seems a little freaked out. not in a frantic “call the doctor if the baby is in distress” sort of way (which, btw, is complete bullshit. how do you know that?!). she’s just sort of squirmy. even if i’m totally projecting, it bothers me that i can’t tell her it’s going to be okay. that i know she’s freaked about what’s going on, but it’s supposed to happen and that it will all be over very soon, and that it has to happen and that it’s for the best.

anyway, this is my version of nervous chatter that i can’t really do right now because ryan’s in the shower (i just got out), and i’m probably just past the point of being able to nervous chatter anyway. only my fingers are capable at this point.

back to the game!

know what i did? i sat on the couch, almost entirely engrossed in a video game next to my husband who was doing the exact same thing. occasionally we’d get up to eat or do laundry or something. sounds like an idyllic sunday, right? (okay, maybe video games aren’t your thing, but you’ve got a thing you’d love doing all day on a sunday instead of being productive)

it was not.

through out the day, every 30 minutes or so, but with a few hour long breaks, i’d have a contraction. sometimes they were weak, sometimes they were not-so-weak. sometimes they’d be 20 minutes apart for a while, sometimes almost 40. they were never bad enough that i had to stop talking or anything. none that were as bad as one i had a few days ago, but for the last … 2 hours or so they’ve been consistently … not-so-weak.

we even had a two hour period where nothing was happening, and then we realized that nothing was happening. not even a peep from charlotte herself. after calming down and waiting patiently/rationally for some sign, she eventually woke up (i’m sure she was tired, too), and moved around enough to calm me down. i’m still not sure ryan’s calm about it.

waiting like this it is the dumbest thing. we’ve had days where there’s been 2-3 hours or so of this. we’ve had nights where we’ve given up and gone to bed in hopes that i wake up screaming in pain or with a ruined set of sheets (don’t worry, the mattress is protected). we’ve not had an entire day where we’ve been teased this mercilessly.

today is the official “due date” and it’s 10:30pm. there had better not be a baby born today, but i sure would like to be going to the hospital before the day’s officially over. neither one of us is interested in going to bed until this either dies down for a few hours, or it’s obvious we’re going to go someplace. i can’t imagine waking up tomorrow and sending ryan to work, if tomorrow’s going to be anything like today was, and i suspect it will.

that’s right. the 36 week ultrasound had predicted 11/1 as the due date. not sure what the margin of error “officially” is, but even the technician waved off the information when she gave it to us.

that leaves:

11/4: the doctor’s official due date based on my last period. i had thought it was 11/3 until i saw some official records last week.

11/6: my due date, which takes into account that i ovulate on the 16th day of my cycle, not the 14th (which is what the 11/4 date assumes).

and then, of course there’s 11/7: the “if nothing else” induction due date (hospital backups notwithstanding), which likely means an 11/8 birth date.

knowing that the end is officially near helped me a bit today. i was able to sleep better last night, and was less mopey today. i still wasn’t productive by any means, but i didn’t mind all the down time as much. which is good. at most, i have 5.5 days of this left.

that’s pretty awesome.

i was really hoping to not have this week’s checkup. and then i was really hoping that if i went to this week’s checkup, my doctor would tell me that i’ve progressed so much that labor was just around the corner. or maybe, just maybe, she’d look at me cross-eyed and say “shit, girl! you’re in labor! get yourself to the hospital.”

none of those things happened.

there was no change in my shape (still almost 3cm, still 80% effaced) when the examination started. by the time it was over…um…let’s just say (and i’m practically quoting) she did all she she could to hurry things along short of grabbing my tonsils. hopefully it’ll jump-start labor in the next few days.

even better news: we also scheduled an induction appointment for next week on the 7th. i’m in the afternoon shift, which means any time after 3pm someone is going to call and say “come have a baby, okay?” and then we’ll hop in the car and then go have a baby. according to my doctor, it’s likely the call won’t come until 7 or 8pm (they have to “clear out” all the morning folks first), and charlotte won’t be born until the next morning.

i don’t know about you, but i feel better. my doctor gave me a boost to kick labor into gear, and gave me an end date. i’m not exactly looking forward to induction, but i’m certainly looking forward to not being pregnant, and even more so, i like end dates. the past few days have been really rough, and i’m not even *at* my due date yet. the frustration of not knowing has been really difficult. one of the reasons i’m sleeping late and taking naps is that i can’t sleep at night. the anxiety of wondering what tomorrow will bring keeps me up until tomorrow happens (well, until about 6am) and then i can sleep.

hopefully i’ll sleep better tonight :)

oh! and as a side-note there were 3 of us all due about the same day: my cousin, a former co-worker, and me. well, my co-worker had her baby this morning after a freakishly short and easy labor process (10pm to 2am!) so congrats to cindy and MP! (and skyler)