All of you who freak out whenever I call you these days because you think I'm in labor...you can relax. According to the doctor I saw today, I am officially NOT dilated at all. After hearing this sad news, and then barely hearing him say that I might as well go ahead and schedule my 41 week appointment, he rattled off something about how if the baby doesn't come on her own by then we'll have to start thinking induction and possible C-section. Good Lord.
In complete discouragement I waddled out to the receptionist's desk to make my next appointment. Unfortunatley, I did not get the memo about making appointments months in advance, and the cranky lady at the computer chewed me out for not making my appointment before now.
Um, my 41 week post-due date appointment?? Apparently there is not one single appointment available that week, the week I will officially be overdue, and she got all up in arms about how to fit me in. Finally she told me she couldn't do anything and I would have to talk to a supervisor tomorrow and get special permission to be squeezed in.
So after being served the news that by body is not, in fact, gearing up for labor, and that I am not, in fact, just fat enough yet, and after I get yelled at in front of a waiting room of perfectly pre-scheduled pregnant women...I headed out into the dark parking lot barely holding back the tears. I made it to my car only to discover that someone had parked their car over the line of my parking spot and I could not, for the life of me, get into my front driver's seat. What a cruel joke! I'm already feeling fat and overdue, I've just been told that I'm only going to get fatter. (And upon reading my weekly Baby Center update today on my baby's development at 39 weeks...all she's doing now is "putting on fat."
Greaaaaat.)
So, in completely ungraceful fashion, I waddled around to my passenger side door, climbed over the seats and into the driver's seat. It was not pretty. And judging by my make-up smeared, tear-streaked face upon arriving in our driveway, it's a miracle I made it home without hitting something.
So yes, I'm still pregnant. No, I'm not feeling great. And I really don't care to hear any more stories about women being told they were weeks away from delivery, only to go into labor that night and be rushed to the hospital, delivering within an hour. I've dreamed of that for the past two weeks, and it accomplished nothing. I've taken long walks, eaten spicy food, cleaned my house, endured contractions that keep me up all night...nothin'. So frustrating.
But I guess when you put it all in perspective...it WILL happen soon. We WILL have a baby girl in no more than three weeks. I WILL be done being pregnant in three weeks. It's just going to be a very long three weeks.
So thanks for caring, for thinking about us, for being excited for us. I look forward to finally indulging you all with the news that she's finally here...but please, don't keep your cell phones on your night stands. You'll only be disappointed.
