Although my brain is stuck in the fuzz and muckity muck of pregnancy haze, there are some things that I learned during my last pregnancy that are still very clear and hold true through this one that I actually remember.
The evil internal exams started much earlier on in my pregnancy with Holden because of all the stupid and annoying and unhealthy complications I encountered. It must have been around the 36 week mark when I was told what was at the time music to my ears:
“You’re a fingertip dilated and 90% effaced”
Being that I was fat swollen and miserable and plagued with high blood pressure headaches- this made me ecstatic. WOO, BABY IS COMIN’ EARLY!
Progress always means progress, right?
Well, the weeks went by.. slowly.. and that fingertip never changed. In fact, depending on who checked me- I could even pass for not dilated at all.
It was quite an obnoxious and disappointing experience to say the least. There I was, thinking that having any kind of action down below meant that things were actually, oh I don’t know, happening?
No such luck. Around rolled 39 weeks and it was induction time. Alas, I still thought that was a good thing since it meant i’d be getting Holden the hell out of me early.. we all know how well that turned out (screw you, pitocin!)
So now, I know better then to get excited. Plenty of first time moms still get the news that they’re 1, 2, even 3 inches dilated a couple of weeks early and start doing jumps of joy (although i’m pretty sure no preggo is going to catch any air, so.. maybe.. wiggles of joy?) thinking that their kid is well on their way out of them sooner rather than later.
Sometimes, this can be true, sure… but allow me to piss in your cheerios this evening and tell you that in most cases- ‘progress’ means diddly squat.
I suppose if i’d taken bets like I said I should on being ‘closed up tight’ at my internal exam today.. i’d have lost money, because SHOCK AND SURPRISE, i’m 1cm dilated (one of my doctors saying to me “I can feel his head!” totally creeped me out).
Due to past experience, this doesn’t really phase me at all. Being 1cm dilated doesn’t really mean anything other than.. well.. that i’m 1cm dilated and I could stay 1cm dilated for 3 or even 4 more weeks so the last thing I should do is get my hopes up.
Am I a little hopeful? Yeah, but not because I think 1 measily centimeter means that i’ll be giving birth early.. but because it gives me a tiny bit of hope that MAYBE this time my body will do the damn work itself and throw me into labor before I have to be induced and put on the pitocin drip from hell again.
Hm, this post came out a lot angrier than i’d intended. I blame the kid perched comfortably on the nerves to both of my legs and the fat ugly caveman feet i’ve developed.
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
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.
Parenthood is when you start counting the minutes to bed time before 11am.