It seems like every day some one new is asking me how I'm feeling or commenting that I look like I'm about to pop or that it looks like the baby has dropped. I honestly appreciate the concern and interest, especially from friends, but after today I just feel kind of...done. I don't know how else to describe the way I'm feeling. I went into this birth knowing (I thought) exactly what I wanted. I just assumed Connor would come early, like Zooey. Last time at 37 weeks, 4 days I'd had a newborn for two full weeks. Now? I have two swollen feet, a belly that knocks everything over, stretch marks, pains when I walk or try to roll over, and fears about my choices that just won't quit. I made the mistake of watching The Business of Giving Birth when I ran across the documentary on Netflix. I made a decision long ago that, yes, I did want to induce labor at 39 weeks, thank you very much. Granted, I didn't think this was really something I'd have to think about. One early baby means two early babies, right?
Turns out that isn't entirely true. Now I'm faced with a big decision, one I didn't think I would have any trouble with. To induce or not to induce? I understand that little man needs all the time he can get to cook completely but I'm ready now. How much should that factor into my decision? (According to the article I just read, it shouldn't at all. Being "over it" is not a good reason for induction.) My dad is flying into town at the end of the week and I would love for him to be able to spend a few days with Connor. I don't want to have to wait another year (or however long, I don't know) for him to be able to visit again. I was literally in tears over this, watching the documentary and feeling like I was being slapped in the face for wanting these things. I don't want the "joy" of natural birth like a lot of women do; I don't feel that I'm being cheated out of a life altering experience. I just want my healthy baby, and no Ricki Lake, I don't care exactly how he makes it into my arms. I don't feel that I need the experience of reaching down and pulling the baby out myself. (That's not what this is about at all, I just wanted to punch Ricki in the face for daring to assume that all women are being cheated out of a "real birth".)
Okay, let's go on to the weekly update before I start the waterworks again. Zooey looks at me funny when I cry, anyway. :)
How far along?
37 weeks and 4 days. Feels like it has been a billion years!
Maternity clothes?
The nights are nice and cool and I have one pair of maternity jeans that fits. But I'm still rocking the sports bra and running shorts around the house.
Stretch marks?
Belly stretch marks... :(
Sleep?
Turning over without pain is a distant memory and I sweat so much I wake up with wet hair.
Food cravings:
Cravings have kind of dwindled this past week. I still want root beer but it isn't so much a physical need anymore.
Belly button in or out?
Has been the same for a while now.
Movement?
Still practicing to be in a boy band, it seems.
What I miss?
Fitting into my shoes. Not feeling guilty about drinking caffeinated sodas. Afternoon naps.
What I’m looking forward to:
Holding my little one. I've held so many other babies this week, it seems.
Milestones:
His growth has slowed this week. Just working on cooking the rest of the way. My cervix is still dilated at a solid three, but remains pretty thick. Boo.
What baby looks like this week:
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