I sit here watching Wimbledon waiting to go to the hospital for an 11am appointment to be induced. I don't need to pack a bag because my bag has been in the car for a week! I had no expectation that I'd be 10 days past my due date and counting. None whatsoever. But that's the way these things go. I've been hooked up to the baby monitor 4 times in the last two weeks and all reports are that the baby is doing great. Great heartbeat, great bloodflow. I've had 2 ultrasounds and she looks a little squished but otherwise seems to be enjoying herself, moving around doing dance routines as we get poked and prodded. A showoff. Apparently your amniotic fluid levels have to be above 5 to be considered safe... Mine were at a 10 yesterday. They estimate her to be 8 lbs 10 oz, but could be up to a pound off either way (yikes!).
But when my doctor came in yesterday examine me, after all this good news she said, "The baby is perfect, she's doing great. Much better than you are." Maybe the nurse had told her that I was clearly having a nervous breakdown when she came in to check on me. Or maybe she could just see it in my eyes.
I have been kidding that the baby knows I needed a vacation. I did, surely. And it's been really nice to have some time off to gather myself before her arrival. Our parents have been awesome about watching the Pipster and she has been super eager to have sleepovers, so I've been able to get a lot of R&R. Frankly I miss my little one a bit, clearly more than she does me. But it bodes well for her in this transition that she feels so comfortable out and about. But there are strategies to waiting. For a while I employed the "tomorrow, it'll definitely be tomorrow" tactic. That starts to wear on you after a week.
A few days ago I decided that if I felt good (some days are better than others) I would just go about my business as if I wasn't 41 weeks pregnant, and stop worrying about arrival times. But that puts you into a delusional state. There is no baby! Labor and delivery? What? I just wasn't feeling mentally prepared anymore, or in the frame of mind that we were about to become a family of 4. And that was unsettling. The other thing that pops into your head is that everything's just fine until it's not -- like you're waiting for something bad to happen.
I don't know what happened to me as I stared up at the fluorescent lights in the doctor's office, listening to her little heartbeat running around 160. I just lost it and it was hard to get back. I think maybe it was a way of the universe nudging me to communicate my wishes with my doctor when I might otherwise have told myself to buck up and keep waiting. What came out of my mouth was that I couldn't go any longer than Thursday. She recommended we schedule an induction because my body, in her opinion, was ready.
So I had orders to call the hospital this morning at 5am to confirm my 6am arrival time. I set my alarm for 4:45, hopped in the shower, and... They had a crazy night and there were no beds available (!!!). Call back at 9. Luckily the Mister only had 1 sip of coffee and was able to go back to bed to get some more sleep. After trying for about an hour to go back to sleep myself, I came downstairs and low and behold, "Sneakers," my favorite Robert Redford movie, was on. I used to have it on VHS! What luck. I feel asleep on the couch and woke up a couple hours later to Breakfast at Wimbledon. Called the hospital at 9. They promised me they'd have a bed ready and everything set for 11. A much more civilized time for my fashionably late baby.
I thought I'd take a few minutes to record this epic journey to the starting line before life totally changes and I don't remember what it's like to have two free hands.
Man I am excited to meet this little girl. Keep you posted.