Another question I’ve had is about the birth.  So I’ve been debating. Do I do one of those birth story posts or not?  John is a big supporter of this as he feels there were a lot of things we learned during the labor experience that could potentially be helpful to people who choose to propel a human out of their body.  I didn’t think people would really want to hear about the nitty gritty details of my body exploding.  It was pointed out to me that nitty gritty details are what I’m all about and when have I ever held back?  That thought, combined with multiple requests from people for a birth story post, have pushed me over the edge and I will be posting about the birth.  It will be clearly labeled so those of you who would rather skip over that post can do so without permanently scarring themselves.  

I’ve also been informed that no post would be complete anymore without at least one picture. We have a few million, most of which are on our other computer which I’m not quite up to using yet.  So here is a picture to tide you over until I can post more.  

The picture is of me as a newborn.  John feels there is a strong resemblance.  I’ll let you decide.

But there is also reflexively smiling Cameron:

I met with the midwife today, although after deciding to just stay with my midwife, I ended up with a different one because they had a scheduling problem. It turned out to be alright because the new midwife was great, not at all like the previous one that scared me off from meeting new ones.  She also helped calm a lot of the anxieties I had after Tuesday.  We talked about Bogey being separated from me (she said no way if I didn’t want it) and that the midwives are the ones who discharge me and as far as they are concerned, if I’m healthy I can get out of there as soon as I want.  She said to talk to the pediatrician about how they feel having him leave early because that will be more of the hitch. We already have an appt. scheduled Monday with a potential pediatrician so that question will be on our list.  She also said, bottom line, if they are trying to do something I don’t want to do there is nothing wrong with breaking convention and doing it how I want.  She had no idea who she was talking to.  I could feel John wince as the words came out of her mouth.  

Things are going great with Bogey and me.  I am Group B Strep negative which means no IV unless it becomes necessary down the line, ie medication is needed, fluids are needed, etc.  But they will not put one in until that point.  It also means that it is likely both of us can get out of the hospital faster than if I had tested positive.  I am two centimeters dilated and 70% effaced. This is awesome news as it means I am progressing as I should, but doesn’t mean labor is right around the corner.  I could sit like this for a month.  But it is better for my brain than if I were no centimeters dilated and 0% effaced.  

Bogey is continuing to rock his textbook positioning.  He is in the exact same place as he has been for the last few weeks, which is good.  His head is as far down as it can possibly go without actually exiting my body.  She was pretty surprised by that. This has been something debated by the midwives due to my uber strong pelvic muscles. They’ve all said he had dropped, but they couldn’t agree on how far he’d dropped because the muscles were in the way. Once she got in there and tried to push up, she said, wow, he is completely dropped because she could not budge him.  This was impressive to her because his butt is wedged high up in my uterus making him an impressive size from one end to the other.  I of course immediately get an image of a 20lb baby coming out with combat boots on, but John pointed out it is not necessarily a weight thing, he could just be a long baby.  So I’m now visualizing long and narrow, not fat and round.  

We’ll continue our weekly visits until he’s here, hopefully that means there will be only a couple more!

Even the Baskin Robbins’ picture is brighter as a new store has just popped up maybe a minute from our house so I now have options in case one store is out of a particular flavor.  

More pictures to come soon. . .

Tonight was the hospital tour. Upon further reflection, we probably should have just skipped this one as I am terrified of hospitals and they cause my anxiety level to skyrocket at the mere mention of them. I thought that seeing a labor and delivery room and the postpartum area would make me feel better. Fear of the unknown and all that. Wrong.

We go up there and are informed that all of the L&D rooms are full tonight. They are over capacity. We can’t see one of them. This brings up a question I had never thought of: What happens if they are full when I go into labor? John asked this for me as I had already turned in on myself and was in a ball on the floor, similar to an armadillo before it gets run over by a car. Oh, the instructor says, they put you in a regular hospital room. That’s what they’ve been doing tonight.

This may not seem like a big deal, except for the fact that there are a few differences between the two rooms. A few BIG differences for midwife patients. The bed? In a normal hospital room, it is a normal hospital bed. No ability to maneuver it to sit up, to take it apart so it is more like a birthing chair, no ability to really change positions for the actual birth. The room is at least half the size, not nearly the freedom of movement in the room or ability to use things such as birthing balls. Then there is the shower. Not meant for a laboring woman. Not as big, no chair, no movable shower head that can be used to massage the back. Few differences there.

Then she started talking about the baby. And the two hours here and there they would take him for bathing or an assessment or, or, or. It was at this point I began focusing on not running out of the room screaming and barricading myself in my house until after Bogey goes to college. I figured if I did that they would admit me to the hospital immediately and my biggest problem would not be what bed I would be in, but whether or not I would be strapped to that bed in a white coat.

As she finished talking about everything, I turned to John and told him I had to go. Go to the conference room where the next part of class is going to take place, he asked? Um, no. I. HAVE. TO. GO. Out of the hospital, he asked? He didn’t really need me to answer as he saw my wild eyed look frantically searching out the exit signs.

We left the hospital, John threw me (by this point in tears) in the car, and decided to stop by Baskin Robbins as a treat. They were out of Mint Chocolate Chip. Until that moment, I would have sworn to you that Baskin Robbins couldn’t run out of Mint Chocolate Chip. Or if they did, the store would be closed. No Mint Chocolate Chip? An impossibility. That is their signature flavor. I told John just to take me home so I could revert back to the curled up ball and pretend the evening didn’t happen after I washed off the hospital smell that leapt on me as we walked through the doors. He decided to take me to Target instead and we loaded up on Ice Cream Sundae makings. It was a pretty effective move. It at least got me home and out of the car. He didn’t even have to wrestle the keys from me so I didn’t drive back to NC.

Perhaps I’m not quite ready for Bogey to get here. Perhaps I need some quick therapy to get over my hospital anxieties. Perhaps I need to focus my energy on what I can control opposed to what I cannot.

It wasn’t a completely wasted evening though. I rode in an elevator twice tonight. With multiple pregnant women in the elevator with me. That is tempting fate. That is laughing at fate. But I did it. Without passing out, without screaming, without going into labor, without scaring all the other women to the point of inducing their labor. And while not enough to redeem my failure in class, I think it was a sign of progress in my fragile psyche.

Bogey is wonderful.  Again, he is totally over having the doppler done and spiked his little heartbeat trying to wiggle away when she did it. Labor is going to be tougher on him than he realizes.  He is not only head down, but she said he is tucked way down in there and is engaged. For those who don’t know pregnancy stuff, that does not mean he found his true love already (although who really knows what goes on in there), it means his head has dropped down into my pelvic bone, a helpful and necessary step for him getting out of there.  

It’s October, hopefully there will be a baby here by the end of the month. If not, hopefully a certain team will have won the world series.  If not, hopefully a bluish tint to early November.  And if not, we’re doing the month over again. 

There were four of us pregnant ladies.  I was the only one who apparently did not get the memo for the cute pregnancy outfits. Casual yet chic.  Hmmm…  Sounds familiar.  Ah, yes because I missed that memo in childbirth class too.  I’m guessing perhaps I missed that memo entirely as it was sent out to all pregnant ladies upon the moment of conception.  I had been proud of myself that I actually put on my cargo pants and not my sweats for the class.  

The instructor asked (before the students got there) how far along everyone was. The other three knew to the day how far along they were.  I tried to be definitive, but really had no idea exactly how far along I was and had to fall back on my midwife, who was able to answer for me. That’s why I keep her around.  

There was one midwife there who looked at me and another woman who was a couple of weeks behind me and said late October huh?  My first baby was due in late October.  He was born near Thanksgiving.  I had him at 43 weeks.  He was 10 lbs.  chirp, chirp, chirp, giggle, giggle, giggle.  I just stared at her and asked very calmly if she was one of the midwives who attended deliveries. She said oh gosh no, only an instructor right now, she was taking a break from deliveries. I smiled and thought good, because if I was at 40 weeks and she told me oh chirp, chirp, chirp, giggle, giggle, giggle you have three more weeks and your kid will be the size of a toddler I’m pretty sure I would force her into my uterus at gunpoint to retrieve my child for me. 

We were then all separated into exam rooms with one instructor. Luckily, I had a different instructor with me.  During the first exam, the students were feeling for position of the baby, after a lot of poking and prodding the instructor looked at me and said oh, are you having a contraction?  I looked at her, and the student, desperately hoping one of them would answer for me, because as far as I knew, I hadn’t been having any contractions, but alas, they both just stared at me.  So I hedged my bets and tentatively said, yes…because why else would she have asked?  She immediately dove in to tell the student how she could tell and that when the uterus is stimulated as much as it was tonight, it was common for it to contract, blah, blah, blah.

While she was sharing all of this with the student I pulled out my failed pregnant lady passport and put another stamp in it.  This time because that “movement” I’ve been feeling from Bogey? Where it feels kind of tight across my already tight abdomen?  That would be a contraction. Whoops.  Been having those for awhile now.  

Back to the exam.  The students LOVED Bogey.  Well, all of them except the one that looked like she thought she might break me if she touched me in any way.  She was a little scary and Bogey made her night pretty miserable.  He kept moving when she touched him so she couldn’t figure out where he was.  Then when she got the doppler out to listen for his heartbeat, as soon as she got it, he shifted away from the doppler so his heartbeat would drop out.  The instructor finally told her to just let it be because obviously he was not going to cooperate with her.  But he was perfect for everyone else.  They said his positioning was textbook and made it super easy to figure out.  My pelvic muscles are apparently rock hard strong, making it nearly impossible for them to figure out where his head was.  Hopefully this means those muscles will shoot Bogey out like a torpedo.  John said he’ll have the catcher’s mitt ready.

I left Monday night proud of my baby and his stellar cooperation.  I also gloated to John how I actually had been having contractions, but they did not hurt one bit, it was just like tightening a muscle a little. Oh happy day happy pregnant lady with your happy baby and happy uterus. 

Then Tuesday hit.  Apparently, Bogey did not actually like all that poking and prodding.  Or at least my super painless happy uterus didn’t like it.  I could not sit down for more than about ten minutes without the pain from the constant contractions forcing me up and walking around. That felt better, but eventually my feet got sore from all the walking and standing so I’d sit, only to be greeted by waves of painful contractions.  This went on all day long until I finally got home, laid down, and apologized to the pregnancy gods I’d offended.  

Today was better, all back to normal, so don’t get excited that I’m imminently going to go into labor.  I’m perhaps wishing that was true, but it is not going to happen for a little while longer.  

Midwife appt. tomorrow, more updates about how we’re both doing then.