slowly taking the ride to crazytown

DISCLAMER: This post is long, all about pregnancy and the insanity of women, and does include some graphic content toward the end. Read at your own risk.

There is just this point in pregnancy - for me at least, around 35-36 weeks - where you hit all out insanity in your mind. Faythe, our awesome assistant & friend, and I joke about it constantly. You get to this crazy place where you're pretty convinced that at any moment you're quite likely to go into labor or you're possibly already in labor. Even though all reason is against you and all normalcy tells you otherwise - you're almost positive that you're at least nine centimeter dilated and the baby is pretty much hanging out between your legs.

I suppose for women with high-risk pregnancies or just extremely sane demeanors - this isn't a problem, but for the rest of it - it's inevitable. Let me give you some examples... I remember the night I took my pregnancy test for Elias - with my mom and sister, so excited and so scared and so excited all over again. While I was sad I wasn't with Nick, in hindsight we all agreed it was better because they just freaked out with me and Nick's calm demeanor may have frustrated more than encouraged me. Thankfully - Katie and Mom weren't all giggles and grins... my mom came through with some sound advice. We had just figured out my due date online and she very sternly told me - "You need to remember to just add two weeks to this don't want to keep thinking you're in labor at the end, going to the hospital and getting sent home." ha ...

So Elias was due February 5th, and naturally I began to imagine him here by the 19th, right? THEN CAN SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHY I LEFT A WEDDING EARLY ON DECEMBER 14TH - POSITIVE I WAS IN LABOR? I went as far as to address the bride & groom on my way out, telling them... "I really do wish I could stay, but I've been having contractions all night and I'm pretty sure he's coming!" I'm an actual freak of nature. In my own defense, however, women in my family have a crazy propensity towards Braxton hicks contractions (false labor) - which start for us around six months and don't really let up. These suckers often hurt, badly; the only problem is they don't actually do anything to your cervix.

My madness with Elias only continued... I went to a movie on Christmas Night - I had forgone all traveling in case I suddenly pushed out my son, and began timing my Braxton hicks - sure I needed to go to the hospital. And my mom, well I have to rat her out... the one time I did finally get the guts to go to the hospital and did inevitably get sent home, my mom and sister were right there with me - convincing my midwife I truly was in labor. I had to feel proud of my mama bear when midwife Betsy simply said, "I could tell she wasn't in enough pain when she called to say she was coming into the hospital" and my mom retorted, "WELL, I talked to her just before that and trust me she was in PAIN. And why didn't you tell her that over the phone before she came up here and we drove from out of town?!” That was on January 26th. I love the women in my family, they are amazing.

So the point is... this pregnancy, I'm trying VERY hard to keep my wits about me. Sure I asked them to check for dilation at my first OB visit when we got here, but only because it had been such a strenuous move. And yes, I did wake up Tuesday on our last day of vacation this week with a contraction so hard I began to pack and flutter about the hotel room - trying to figure out how quickly we could get back to Puyallup - ferry & all. (I did stop after a few minutes & thankfully, I didn't wake Nick up) Faythe is keeping me in check and the girls aren't assisting my insanity in the least... being that they've never given birth before and aren't having any contractions yet, each time I'm in pain one of them simply suggests that I probably just need to pee. I fully intend on using this line when they're in labor.

Here's my point - I'm taking the blame fully off myself and placing it on the medical community. Last night as I lay in bed from 3am to 6am with contractions, I slowly reminded myself time and again - you aren't in labor - you aren't due for three more weeks. It is not time. Do not ask your OB to check your cervix tomorrow - you are not dilated. And then... what did that rascal gyno do this morning - "Well good morning Jessi! I was thinking - let's check your cervix real quick, that’s such a big girl and you have such a heavy schedule. Ooooh, looky here! Two centimeters dilated and nearly totally thinned out! I wouldn't be surprised if you're not pregnant by this time next week! I don't think you'll need that appointment next Wednesday, will you?"

Sorry lady, I just don't buy it anymore. I know you really won't do this c-section till Glory can wave at us or my water has broken in three confirmed locations at least. I also happen to understand very well that you are the dark angel of false hope and I'm just going to sit back and relax. No more crazy talk for me. Right?

NOT on my list of things to do:
Pack and obsessively repack for the hospital because I used my robe this morning and it needs washing. Shower thrice daily just to be sure I’m clean in case I go into labor. Stockpile batteries & nipple cream. Take castor oil, insert primrose oil in a place I shan’t mention, or force my husband into relations with me in the hopes that I can induce labor on my own.

DEFINITELY on my list of things to do:
Perhaps get some baby stuff ready – like an infant car seat… Maybe, if I feel like it… when I get around to it. Spend a lot of time with Elias. Pray for and write to my Glory girl. Take Tylenol PM nightly to ward off any middle of the night contractions that would lead me to insanity. Plan on seeing that sweet little babe on the date she is definitely scheduled to get cut out – and not a second sooner.