Monday, Monday

Monday is still the day. I saw my doctor yesterday, and there are still no changes. He mentioned the whole 'cervix of steel' thing again. He did an ultrasound and I got to see a lazy Little Guy again, who was laying around and throwing an occasional elbow. Little Guy looks rather chunky - he has a big round belly.



Everything on the ultrasound looked good, and then after a quick check of my cervix my doctor said there's still nothing going on down there. He was almost apologetic about it, but I understand. He brought me to his office where he spoke with labor and delivery about scheduling me in for midnight Sunday (or Monday, depending on how you look at it). I get two doses of cervix gel, one at 1am and one at 4am, and then depending on how things are rolling he will start me on pitocin around 8am. He said the last mother he brought in like this didn't even need the pitocin and delivered around 10am. That would be nice. He said he thinks I will probably need the pitocin, but he is predicting that I'll have the baby somewhere between 12 and 2. He said if he's wrong I can yell at him but not hit him. Deal.



He filled out some paperwork that I have to bring with me to check in, and I joked with him that I was going to attempt to sneak in a couple of days early with it. He said that wouldn't work, as the paperwork was dated, but admired my moxy. Oh well - a girl has to try.

There has been some discussion of celebrating my birthday during Superbowl celebrations on Sunday night. Which is cool, but I don't know I necessarily want to eat a huge, heavy meal before heading off to give birth. Before I was induced with Jacelyn I wasn't feeling well, so I only ate some soup and toast, and I was very glad for that later. I can't imagine eating the ton of brisket that I would inevitably eat, plus various and assorted side dishes, and then going off to labor. Yuck. We don't have to celebrate my birthday this year - although it is the big 30 for me, I am much more focused on having a baby than anything else. We will see. We might do something Saturday night, but the Mardi Gras parade is Saturday afternoon, so everyone might be all tuckered out from that. Not me, of course - you couldn't get me to that parade with a cattle prod, but my in-laws want to take Jacelyn, and that's fine with me.

I have started having absolutely fierce Braxton-Hicks contractions every time I lay down. Nasty, painful things that stop as soon as I sit or stand up. But I like laying down! Last night I was exhausted, and went to bed early, but couldn't sleep from the pain of the stupid things. I attempted to persevere, to outlast them, but eventually they got so strong I thought maybe they could be the real thing. But as soon as I got out of bed it was like someone flipped a switch, the contractions stopped, and then I was almost afraid to lay down. I sat up until after midnight, and then I finally fell into bed and managed to fall asleep sometime later. I was awakened by contractions a couple of times after that, but I managed to fall back asleep afterwards, so it was OK. Sigh. My body seem to know what it is supposed to do, it just can't seem to do it in a productive way. That's Ok, though, I'm letting nature take its' course and that is a good thing. Isn't it? It is.

So there is where we are - no further along than we were before. But the light at the end of the tunnel is rapidly drawing nearer, and I will look at these few extra days as some extra time to get things wrapped up and ready. And as for having him on my birthday - well, who could ask for a better birthday gift? And I can remind him as he gets older, in that loving yet harping, motherly way, that I spent my 30th birthday in the hospital laboring to bring him into this world. Nah, I couldn't do that. Well, maybe. We'll see. :-)