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05/22/2007: "Being and Nothingness"
So, officially I am full term as of today. According to Dr. Google, full term is anything after 38 weeks (some sources say 37 weeks) and today I am 38 weeks.
Fat lot of good it does me.
Dr. LaidBack, after a very uncomfortable internal exam that I do not wish to repeat any time soon, today declared me a fingertip dilated and says my cervix is still pretty thick. I think he told me the fingertip thing so I wouldn't throw myself out the window in a fit of hopelessness (his office in on the first floor so it's not as if I would have hurt myself, but the mess would have been a pain to clean up). Essentially absolutely nothing is happening as yet. It is beginning to feel as if nothing will ever happen, ever ever ever. I will be pregnant for the rest of my life and make it into the Guiness Book of World Records. I will never be able to shave my legs without holding my breath again and I shall never ever ever sip another dry martini before dinner, even if I live to be 100.
The situation is becoming desperate 'round these parts.
I realize that 38 weeks is hardly a brutal milestone. I realize that many an expectant mother has blown past 38, 39, 40, 41 weeks with nary a sign. I understand that babies born at 42 weeks are not at all uncommon.
I simply don't care. Those are other mothers. This is me we're talking about.
The fact of the matter is that I found out I was pregnant at 3 weeks, 6 days. I have been obsessively aware of this child for 34 weeks and a day. I spent the first 14 weeks terrified of a miscarriage, the next 6 weeks worried about genetic testing, had about a month of relative breathing room and then began "Gestational Diabetes: The Glucosening". Concerned about everything from polyhydramniosis to shoulder dystocia I am only now coming to a place of relative peace with my blood sugars and only really worry about the baby's size in terms of my newest frightfest "Birth: Or What the Hell Was I Thinking?" Frankly, I am tired of thinking about the whole thing. I need the kind of break that a big bowl of ice cream provides... oh wait. Yeah, that may be the problem...
I vascillate wildly between complete conviction that this baby is never going to be born so I will clearly lose my mind at any moment, and the sure and certain knowledge that every pregnancy eventually does end in a haze of blood, pain and Jay-sus God I have to give birth to this thing, help me, oh dear Lord help me.
I'm a bag of fun these days.
At the very least, Dr. LaidBack scheduled my induction at my appointment today. If I don't go naturally before June 4, I will be induced then. This seems both very very soon (see "Oh Christ I have to pass this child through a very small opening, don't I?" mental state, above) and a lifetime away (witness my belief that I will never bear this child and will remain a pregnant freak of nature for the remainder of my days on Earth. Come visit my tent at the sideshow).
It's a strange thing to be able to hold both notions in one's mind, but I'm doing just fine with it. I'm a walking example of Hegelian philosophy, I suppose. I honestly believe that I will both never have this baby and also have it very soon. I just believe one thing more than the other at any given time and there's no predicting which I will cling on to more if you were to ask. There are trends, of course. When I look in the nursery and notice that we haven't hung up the pictures on the walls yet or look around the house and see that there are still things to organize I tend to believe in the immediate pending appearance of the child. When I watch "A Baby Story" and witness the burgeoning of new life on the screen I cannot connect it with myself and thus believe that the baby will never arrive.
It's only really confusing when I look around the house and my eyes sweep over the televised images of "A Baby Story". That's when it gets a little surreal.
Replies: 1 Comment - Go read it!
on Wednesday, May 23rd, Jeannie said
I was a fingertip (1 cm!) dilated at 38 weeks too. That's either normal or a cool coincidence. I think it's unlikely that your doctor "played with the baby's head" at the same time, though. You're almost there!!! Hang in there!!! It's all worth it, believe me.