For once, my pregnancy instinct was correct. I was wrong about Holden being a girl, wrong about giving birth early, wrong about THIS baby being a girl.. So why did I have to be right about my blood pressure??
It’s the ONE thing I desperately wanted to be totally and completely wrong about. Figures.
What I didn’t expect, was after my pelvic exam (where I, ofcourse, have not progressed past 1cm and am not effaced even slightly) to be shipped off to the hospital for bloodwork and monitoring because of a high blood pressure reading. I was thinking maybe they’d tell me to stay off of my feet.. but this new doctor is a blood pressure nazi and because of my history of pregnancy induced hypertension she totally freaked out and wanted to make sure it wasn’t moving into the danger zone of pre-eclampsia. I understand the concern, but this still isn’t like my pregnancy with Holden where I had WEEKS of high blood pressure regardless of the bed rest I was on.
Having Holden with me made running straight to L&D.. practically impossible. I don’t like leaving Holden with people, still. Yes, i’m over protective and should probably get over it, but I still can’t help it. I called the first person who came to mind, who’s watched Holden more than anyone else (which still isn’t much)- my brother. Luckily he was more than willing to watch Holden and abide by the strict potty rules i’d set.. and I know Holden LOVES my brother so I didn’t feel too freaked out leaving him there.
Off to L&D I went, not excited at all. I knew if my blood work came back bad- i’d be on the fast track to induction. The doctor straight up told me I wouldn’t be allowed to go home if that happened. Awesome.
One positive? I got my own room. SHOCK! At the hospital I delivered Holden at, when you go to L&D to be monitored.. you’re stuck in a large room with a bunch of other preggos separated by a thin curtain. Not a fun place to be. So getting my own HUGE room with a phone and a TV? Other than having a tube sock around my stomach and monitors hooked up to me- it was almost like heaven. A couple of hours to myself just lying around and watching my soap.
Obviously, since i’m writing this blog, the blood work came back normal and they sent me home.. that doesn’t mean i’m feeling good.
The headache is still here, even giving me light sensitivity.. and I don’t know WHAT the hell that doctor did to my insides but HOLY SHIT my pelvis feels like it got slammed by a sledge hammer. Baby is far more active than usual, nasty braxton hicks, and some weird sharp pain all throughout my stomach. I am not a happy preggo.
I get the sinking feeling that if this kid doesn’t come on his own before my appointment in a week- and my blood pressure doesn’t return to normal (i’m not expecting it to at all)- that I will be sent straight from my appointment to the hospital and stuck on a pitocin drip- the ONE thing I have tried to avoid this entire damn pregnancy and i’m headed straight for it.
A lot of people don’t seem to understand why i’m so against being induced. Plenty of ladies have relatively pleasant experiences with being induced. Not me. It was the 7th circle of hell and I do NOT want to do it again. Not only that, but i’ve honestly dreamed about going into labor on my own. It’s one of those stories you can re-tell to people instead of just “oh yeah, I was hooked up to a pitocin drip and went into labor that way.”
There’s nothing good about that. And I don’t know that we’ll have any more children- so this could very well be my last chance to have the experience at all.
So it’s crunch time. This baby has a week to get the hell out of me on his own or shit’s gonna hit the fan.
I’m not willing to try anything that’s going to give me the mega-runs (castor oil).. because obviously, pooping has never helped me to go into labor before. It’s been suggested I try raspberry tea & evening primrose.. both are harmless but could help kickstart this damn process- so i’m in.
I’m determined to evict my tummy-tenant. Never thought i’d want him out early.. then again, I really thought i’d make it through this pregnancy without high blood pressure and the threat of being induced looming over my freaking head like the black cloud of death.
Dear people writing articles on ways to get siblings to get along, I'll save you the time. The answer is "Don't let them play together"
Please stop Complimenting my kids’ “Good” Behavior goo.gl/fb/rwfojS
Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
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Parenthood is when you start counting the minutes to bed time before 11am.