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05/18/2007: "Nothin' Ever Happens 'Round Here"
Boy oh boy they weren't kidding when they said the last few weeks of a pregnancy are worse than all the others combined (I don't know who "they" are, but they are right about a lot of things you know). I'm definitely more uncomfortable, sleeping worse and more emotional. Each day ticks by so slowly it's like being in a prison camp - my only real entertainments are twice weekly appointments at Kaiser and there's nothing actually entertaining about them; they merely help mark out the passage of time. I could knit but my attention span is terrible. My concentration is shot - gee, I wonder why? I could clean the house, I suppose, but between my back and my front (I am a heaving, wheezing mess when I try to bend at the waist) the results are barely worth the effort. I did four loads of laundry yesterday and then told Dave that I hoped he liked what he was wearing at that moment because I absolutely forbade him to get any other clothes dirty until I am post-partum. He laughed so I don't think he realized I was mostly serious.
According to this morning's non-stress test, I am actually having contractions. Or, at least, a contraction. A single contraction actually showed up on the monitor while I was hooked up, so now I know the difference between a contraction and the baby stretching around in there. There is precious little difference at the moment, to be honest. I cannot say with certainty that the event has repeated itself. I'm hesitant to commit myself in any way. I think that's because I really don't want to get into the mode of constant self-monitoring. I do enough checking in on myself as it is; if I start combining it with second guessing everything I will lose what little sanity I have left.
And I am slowly losing my mind, this much is certain. For the first time in, I think, ever, I do not want my husband to leave the house. I know he has to, for work at the very least, but I found myself very uncomfortable with that fact the other day. He had to drive out to Pinole or someplace like that and as soon as the front door closed I had the mildest of anxiety attacks. I've actually been having little mini panic attacks for about a week now - I think they're more physiological than psychological. I'm very short-waisted and the baby is taking up every smidge of room and hasn't dropped yet, so I'm really not getting good breaths. After a while, this shallow breathing catches up with me and my heart pounds a bit and my stomach flips over and I have to take some slow, deep breaths to make it go away.
It's either that or paralyzing fear about the impending birth. Take your pick.
In any case, I find myself more clingy and needy than I like to be. I am the sort of person who always said that I wasn't even sure I wanted the doctor at my birth - I'm very private that way. As I edge closer, though, that's changing. My mom described it as the herd instict - you know you can't really take complete care of yourself when you're this pregnant so you want others around for protection. That rings true for me. It goes against my nature but it's true. It's getting harder to be alone.
Doctor says we'll hope I'll go naturally before my due date and if not we'll induce then. At my next appointment I'm going to try to pin him down a bit more on that. I honestly wouldn't care so much except that I am just about at the end of my rope with the diabetes and a difference of a few days is a lot when you're talking about a plate of pasta. I really shouldn't complain because I know I have it very good, actually. I'm on very low doses of insulin and my numbers have been good. There have been no complications so far and everything looks great with the baby. For which I am suitably and completely grateful.
And yet.
Enough is becoming enough. Between the backaches and the poor sleep and the kicks in the bladder and all the rest of it, not being able to indulge in any of a myriad of pregnancy cravings is just adding insult to injury and, frankly, I'm about done. I've been good. Let's get this show on the road.
Replies: 1 Comment - Go read it!
on Monday, May 21st, Vicki said
Hang in there, the results will be worth it. I hope she arrives sooner rather than later because you deserve that plate of pasta. Good luck!
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