I hit 37 weeks last Friday. My appointment with my doc went well. Blood pressure is great, fetal heart tones sound perfect, I was measuring about 38 weeks (which is still perfect for a 2nd/3rd timer), Baby C is still head down and I’ve even made a little progress in the cervical department. I even worked up the courage to have a brief (very brief) discussion with my OB about my desire to avoid the epidural as long as possible and my desire to not be tied to a bed the whole time I was in the hospital. She said that was fine, I just needed to request intermittent monitoring and that she would give them permission to do so. Yay. So, on the medical side, things are great.
Then there’s the REST of pregnancy at week 37. I don’t really want to complain. I’m thrilled to be at this point, obviously, and I’m not even feeling super anxious or ready for Baby C to make her appearance. I figure I’ve still got a week or so left. But honestly? I’d forgotten just how tough these last few weeks are. Pregnancy is generally kind to me (except that whole stillbirth thing)…I don’t put on a lot of weight and I don’t seem to have to deal with the majority of complaints that I hear from other pregnant women. I keep comparing this pregnancy to my pregnancy with A and while there are a lot of similarities, I’m noticing some differences here at the end. I started my leave from work at 37 weeks when I was pregnant with A. Barring some financial emergency during my leave, I didn’t plan to return to work so the majority of my pregnancy was spent focusing on getting out of a job I didn’t particularly love. My focus was different than it is this time around. So I was done working at 37 weeks, which felt AWESOME, and I had her at 38 weeks exactly. It just didn’t leave much time to wallow in self-pity and moan and grumble about pregnancy woes. Plus I was 3 years younger. Doesn’t seem like a lot, but man, 3 years sure does seem to make a big difference in the pregnancy world. So anyways, I’m just generally uncomfortable this time around. Baby C is quietest when I’m up moving around or laying on my back (I know, I know, a big no-no) she seems to do the Elaine dance (Seinfeld anyone?) at night when I try to settle down on my side. It’s like I’m having uterus spasms or something. Not generally painful, but Baby C likes to hit me in my hips…A never did that. Baby C also spends a great bit of time with some sort of appendage wedged in my ribcage. My ribs are actually sore to the touch…odd. I’m also starting to swell a bit, nothing crazy, but enough that I just had to switch to a plain silver wedding band and tragically, can’t wear my Aggie Ring. I’m more upset about the Aggie Ring. I’m also just not sleeping. I love sleep. LOVE IT. Right now I’m logging a solid 5 hours, but toss and turn the rest of the night. Since Hubs isn’t traveling right now, I refrain from grunting when I try to roll over at night, but believe me, if he wasn’t here, it would sound like a pig farm in my room at night. Baby C is still really high and I figure she’s long. And I have a short torso, sooooooo, that just doesn’t leave a whole lot of room. Things just hurt this time around that didn’t hurt last time. I’m not sure what to do about it except just deal. I was REALLY uncomfortable last night, more so than usual. Hubs kept asking me if I was ok and I finally asked him to stop asking me. I don’t want to complain. Just let me be and I’ll be fine. She’ll come when she’s ready, I’m really in no hurry and I REALLY want her to come on her own. I don’t want to be induced. It’s a good feeling this time around, to be ok with her coming when she’s ready. With A, I hit 37 weeks and was like, “Ok, you can come out now!” I tell people all the time that my best advice is to really enjoy those last few weeks because you have no idea how big of a change you’re getting ready to endure. So I’m working really hard on enjoying these last few weeks, pregnancy woes and all. I got together with a group of girlfriends on Sunday evening at a local restaurant for a small shower. It was super sweet of them to love on me and while I didn’t expect any gifts at all, I got a few new things for Baby C…including a handmade Aggie teddy bear and Aggie blanket, which A promptly confiscated and claimed as her own. I’m thrilled that Baby C FINALLY has something special of her own. Well, sort of, as soon as we can get A to part with them.
I can tell we’re getting close as my “nesting” has reared its ugly head. In odd ways though, for example: went to Target today to buy body wash and shaving cream. I noticed we were getting low this morning…heaven forbid we run out at an inopportune time because my husband is clearly incapable of getting a few toiletries from Target and I guess I’m going to be chained to my house? I squeezed in an eye appointment today so I could refill my contact prescription and get my glasses adjusted. I also decided I absolutely HAD to get a haircut this week; thankfully my guy was able to get me in on Thursday evening. I just had one not long ago, but it feels poofy and I had a slight panic attack this morning thinking about how I was going to get my hair cut with an infant here. I scheduled a vet appointment for Maggie on Saturday morning and I’ve decided to tackle the cleaning of our master shower…probably today at some point. My freezer is stocked with frozen meals and for some reason I have 3 huge boxes of nursing pads. Now, none of these tasks/things seem unusual…it’s the panicky feeling of not getting them done that is my clue my head may not be working right. Especially since my house is basically a disaster zone and I STILL haven’t packed my hospital bag. At least my glasses won’t be crooked and I’ll have good hair. Hubs is nesting too…only he’s decided that this weekend he’s going to give our yard a complete overhaul. We have a big yard. Go for it buddy.