Month: January 2008

I had another appointment with the midwife yesterday. The synopsis: Yep, still pregnant. Yep, still huge – baby continues to be in the 90th percentile for size, meaning he’s bigger than 90 per cent of babies at this gestational age. Yep, mommy and baby still healthy and hearty, if not a little stressed (he’s fine, I’m a little frazzled). Yep, we’ll see you at your appointment next Wednesday — if we don’t see you before that.

I was telling her what I posted about yesterday, that the waiting is not the worst thing but the false starts and rather nauseating pattern of raised expectations and dashed hopes. She smiled knowingly and with sympathy and said, “Oh yes, the third child syndrome.”

The what? There’s an actual SYNDROME and nobody told me? Apparently third babies tend to do this. They toy with mother’s sanity, playing these coy games. She assured me that fourth babies do not do this. I said it’s a wonder there ever ARE any fourth babies, after all this!!

She also made me laugh when she observed that the midwives say there is a certain “look” in the eyes of near-term mothers. At first, I thought she was meaning that there is some sort of ephemeral sign they can read, meaning the baby’s arrival is pending. But no, this is more of an emotional barometer, maybe a little bit too much white showing around the edges of mom’s eyes, or a bit of a twitch, that indicates a woman has had entirely enough of being pregnant, thank-you-very-much. And yes, she was reading hints of *that* look in my eyes. Snicker. I coulda told you that for free!

Not only is tomorrow baby’s official due date, it’s Simon’s birthday AND they’re forecasting a winter storm. I figure after nine months of desperately hoping that I don’t actually deliver on February 1, this combination of circumstances virtually guarantees that he will in fact arrive tomorrow. Murphy’s Third Child Law or something like that! And if he doesn’t come tomorrow, I’m thinking we’re going to have to go in and get him. I signed the paperwork yesterday to start setting up the induction for some time late next week. Damn stubborn babies who don’t listen from BEFORE day one — sheesh!!

So, I’ve been rather self-centred lately — but very much enjoying all your comments and kind words. It’s a beautiful sunny (if not a little frigid) morning here in Ottawa, and I’m about to drop the boys off at the nanny’s house for the day. Life is really not so bad, ya know? What’s lovely in your corner of the world today?

Beloved has resorted to drastic measures. He leaned in close to my uterus this morning and said, “We have candy! We have TV! We have video games! Just c’mon out and it’s all yours — follow the light!”

We were in the car later, and decided the lyrics of this song are surprisingly applicable right now:

Closing time – time for you to go out, go out into the world.
Closing time – turn the lights up over every boy and every girl.
Closing time – one last call for alcohol, so finish your whiskey or beer.
Closing time – you don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.

Closing time – every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end…

And yet, like the party guest who won’t leave long after you’ve cleaned up the kitchen and washed off your makeup and even put on your fuzzy slippers, he just won’t leave!

By the time I figured out that the contractions were not the real deal yesterday morning, I was in a pretty foul mood. I felt supremely betrayed by my body, as false labour was nowhere near my radar screen, and it was outside the realm of the conceivable that what had started would not simply escalate into the arrival of my son. So when I realized otherwise, I was in one cranky-ass bad mood.

My mother, whom I had called early in the morning to put on high alert before the disappointment set in, called me back just before lunch time and offered to take me out – of the house, but mostly of my own head. I warned her that I was in no fit state for company, having lost an entire night’s sleep AND been recently denied something I desperately wanted (something I never take well!) and told her I wasn’t sure I wanted to spend any more time with me, so couldn’t imagine why she wanted to. She perservered, though, and we went out to the mall for a little lunch and a wander about.

By the time she dropped me off a couple of hours later, I felt 110% better. Nothing like a little lunch, a little retail therapy and some unconditional love to restore your perspective on the world. There will still be a baby — just not a baby TODAY. My mom rocks!

And then the midwife called late in the afternoon to check on me. When I told her what was (not) going on, she asked if I would like it if we had an impromptu appointment on the weekend just to ‘make sure everything was on track.’ How great is that?

So I met her at the (closed) midwives’ office this afternoon, and she checked out me and the baby. I had my first internal exam this pregnancy, and I’m a full centimeter dilated. Woot! (Might not seem like much, but I’m still six days away from my due date, and with Simon I was 10 days past and three hours into inducement hell and my cervix was still locked tight and “unfavourable” — perhaps one of the cruelest words in obstetrics.) She said my cervix is soft but still long, and she actually touched the top of baby’s head, which set me all a-tingle. She said she had been considering sweeping my membranes (basically, using her finger to separate the amniotic sac from the uterine wall, which often generates the hormones that trigger labour) but that it was her opinion that it wouldn’t do any good and would only cause me unnecessary discomfort. She did say, though, that “if we make it to the next appointment” she would try it then.

And the final word is pretty much what it has been all along — could be soon, could be two weeks. I can only laugh at this point. Could there be a worse torture for me that all this uncontrollable not knowing? I can’t imagine one!

But I received three e-mails this afternoon with varying degrees of curiousity (and the page views are insanely out of whack with the visitor count, meaning either y’all are clicking back regularly for updates or going mad with the refresh key looking for fun captchas!) so I figured an update was due — even if the baby isn’t. No real contractions since yesterday, so it looks we’re back in a holding pattern for at least a few days. And I’m okay with that!

But hey, if you need something to do OTHER than playing with the captcha oracle (which, admittedly, is a fun new game!) and you haven’t already done so, you could always mosey on over to the Canadian Blog Awards and vote for your favourite family blog…

Forget I said anything. Nothing to see here today, folks. Contractions? What contractions? Sigh.

I’m truly at a loss as to how one can go from 12 hours of *real* contractions (this is baby #3, I know from contractions) every 2 to 6 minutes to nothing. I wouldn’t even mind, if I weren’t so bloody tired now — and can’t sleep a wink because of the damn restless legs.

Anyway, thanks for all your kind words and comments! Check back again in two weeks, cuz he’s got to come out eventually…

Just after 8:30 am. Contractions are sporadic and not too intense. The midwife suggested I go back to bed – as if!! If I couldn’t sleep overnight, there’s no way I’ll be able to sleep now, despite the long sleepless night.

I have no experience with false labour, and was in fact just yesterday saying to a friend (guess I should have touched wood) that I would far prefer the interminable waiting to the series of false starts and unproductive trips to L&D she recently had with her third baby. The midwife said this could go either way at this point. If baby is nice enough to be born during the day, my mom will be able to be there at the birth, but if not, she’ll have to take care of the boys. I’d really like her to be there, so here’s hoping things get moving soon!

It’s 7:30 am and I’m not sure what to think. The contractions almost completely died out after my last post while I was taking a shower, but are now back with mild intensity and regular frequency. Just put in a call to the midwife to see what she thinks. I guess I should wake up Beloved?

Sheesh! I can’t take the ambiguity!