Monday, September 28, 2009

The point where every post will be me freaking out about this pregnancy

Originally posted July 20, 2009

I had to apologize to my baby when I left the doctors office this morning. It’s not her fault that this pregnancy has been such a roller coaster. It’s not her fault that I have a cervix of steel that refuses to efface (get soft and thin) or dilate (open up!). And I guess it’s not even her fault that she’s not dropping into my pelvic area like she should be at this point. I realize that nothing that is going on is her fault, but in the frustration of it all I may have told my unborn child to "suck it up and just get the hell out of there already".

I came to a very scary realization today. This medical induction just isn’t going to happen. At this point there are too many factors that lead my doctor to believe it will be easier and safer if I go into labor on my own. That means this baby’s got two more weeks to just get bigger and bigger (translation: harder and harder to push outta there!). And I’ve got two more weeks of this shortness of breath and being hooked up to oxygen machines. And two more weeks before I can hold her in my arms. But, the scariest part of it all is: now it’s entirely up to me to convince this baby she wants to come out. I won’t have the help of a very strong intravenous drug to convince her it’s time. She threatened to come early multiple times, but now that we’re right at the end she seems perfectly content to stay put. It is now a battle of will. Me against her. Mama vs Baby. And, to be honest, that scares the shit of me. This baby may not even be born yet, but she has a combination of Carmody and Livingston DNA, which basically means I’ll be dealing with the MOST STUBBORN personality to EVER walk the earth. I don’t know that I can match that kind of willpower.

I think the hardest part about this is that it’s just so completely unpredictable and I have a very hard time being put in any situation where I’m not in absolute control. One thing I have learned through my extensive (almost obsessive compulsive) studying is that labor, by nature, is a total unknown and it's absolutely impossible to predict what my personal experience will be like. But being induced meant that I would be given a date and time that this would all be happening and it would be in a somewhat controlled environment. Now there are no definite plans. I realize that most women don’t get any kind of plan when it comes to delivering a baby, but I thought for a tiny second that I might be the exception to that rule. Turns out, I couldn't have been more wrong. See, she’s already one-upped me!

Baby: 1
Mama: 0

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