Tomorrow I will be 39 weeks pregnant. In my head I'm two weeks past when I was due. My doctor had hoped for my sake that my son would be born early because we found out at 30 weeks that his head was in the 97 percentile for size. That's not something a first time mom really wants to hear. I held onto the idea that he could be born early, in fact since I was finishing up my bachelors degree and my dad was getting married the same week, I was thinking I needed to relax so he didn't come too early. As if I really had any control of it at all. Though I did think the stress would send me into labor sooner. I was wrong.
The "due date" my doctor and I had set came and went. That week at my appointment I didn't have any further progress from the week before. I got in my car and cried. I felt like he would never come. I knew that was silly because clearly he can't stay in there forever and he will come out. In this last month though, it's really hard to reconcile the knowledge and the feeling. Maybe it's a first time mom thing, I don't know, but it's something I think one must experience to understand. The only encouraging news I had after this appointment was that I could be induced when I was a week over. Granted some people may gasp at having to wait that long but I understand why. They don't want to push induction sooner since if it doesn't take and something happens where I would have to have a C section. While I've made peace with the possibility of having to have a C section, it would be nice if I didn't have to simply because they tried to induce me too soon.
Everyone says to enjoy this time since once the baby is here everything will have been changed forever. That's easy for people to say. You have what feels like a cement cantaloupe bearing down on your pelvic bones night and day and tell me that you're "enjoying" the time before the baby gets here. It would be one thing if I had a surrogate and I could drink or eat whatever I wanted before the baby got here. Hell it would be great to have crazy sex and be comfortable enough to sleep in, but when you're actually pregnant you can't drink or eat whatever you want and sometimes sex isn't very comfortable, especially at this point and forget enjoying sleep.
Yesterday I made it my goal to get him to come out. I didn't try every trick in the book but I did a few. I had a spicy dressing on my salad, I walked all over Babies R Us with my husband finishing the registry shopping, and I even tried nipple massage. Nothing worked. The spicy dressing had no effect at all. The walking just gave me excruciating pelvic pain that made me cry every time I moved or tried to walk. I barely contracted with the nipple massage. He's just not ready.
I've been saying that for the last few days. He's just not ready to come out. As bad is my singing is when I'm in the car I'm a bit surprised he doesn't try to get away from me and come out. Otherwise all I can figure is that he's very happy in his cushioned womb. In between frustrated tears and meltdowns I try to remember this and not be so upset. I know he will come out. Perhaps not knowing when is what makes it so hard. Maybe it's the physical discomfort. Maybe it's both.
I have found this to be, by far, the most difficult month of my pregnancy. It's been chock full of emotions and disappointment, not to mention stress and frustration. I really have to thank my husband for hanging in there with me. I've cried about everything from disappointment that he didn't come 3 weeks early to pelvic pain so bad I asked him to put my legs on the couch for me. He's really been very helpful and encouraging during this very difficult month. I know it's hard for him to wait too. He's been such great support to me and I'm sure he'll be great in the delivery room too, once we actually get there.
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