Baby: A leek – not as skinny (although that would be helpful for labour…), but certainly as long! Grub is very nearly full size now, and is busy making herself as fat as possible for delivery day.
What I’m cooking: A baby with an operational digestive system, and white rather than pink skin! She’s pretty much done, and is welcome to make an appearance any time now!
Main symptom: Aches, pains, Braxton Hicks (pretty much constant period-like cramps), and general uncomfortableness. Also, a massive case of the grumps. I’m reaching teenager levels of hormonal behaviour now, so watch out!
What’s on this week: More maternity leave, and the wait for labour. Each day is a potential for the “oooh! This is it!” moment, and yet, still nothing. Not frustrating. At all.
So as you can see, I’m just loving late pregnancy! I am the crankiest I’ve been in years, not aided by the hot weather (32˚C today, or 90˚F), my enormous girth, or the fact that each day the number of phone calls and texts asking if I’ve had the baby increases. NO. NO I HAVEN’T HAD THE BLOODY BABY. Did I text you? Did I send you a picture of a scrunched up newborn and a tired me? No? Well then. I haven’t had the F**KING baby! Seriously. Every message and phone call is “any news?” or “had the baby yet?” – what do they expect the answer to be?
“Oh, yeah! Ooops! Forgot to mention it!”???
I know. I know. It’s lovely that people care, and are excited for the new arrival. What’s unfortunate is I feel exactly the same way they do, except times a million, and I’m trying very hard to not think about it while I lie exhausted on the couch, unable to do anything except moan (once again, lucky Mr Nester!). Every time I get a text or a phone call, it just reminds me of how freaking pregnant I am, and how my body hasn’t kicked into gear yet. For fuck’s sake, I’m not even due yet! I feel like a failure already because my labour isn’t punctual. Again, I know all of this is somewhat over the top, but emotions are running high at this point in the pregnancy, and I really, really, REALLY would like to meet my baby now!
On the plus side, all this frustration at still being pregnant has meant that my fear of labour is diminishing by the day. Pain? Bring it. I can handle that. It’s the day after day of being uncomfortable, irritable, and having to wait patiently that I can’t stand at the moment. At least the pain means I’m close to meeting my little Grub. Come on baby, it’s time to see the world!
Otherwise, in grosser news, I’ve started losing my mucous plug. For those not in the know about this lovely little item, your body basically creates a seal at the cervix that lasts throughout the pregnancy, and you guessed it, it’s made of mucous. Once the cervix starts softening and dilating, this plug starts breaking apart and, well, coming out. It can also be called a bloody show, as it can have blood in it from the cervical blood vessels rupturing as it dilates. It basically looks like snot. Lovely. So for the last week, each time I visit the loo I get another “gift” from my cervix. It can mean that labour is on the way, it can mean nothing at all. I mentioned it at my midwife appointment this week, and her response was “I don’t want to say we disregard it completely, but…”. So it seems I’m not necessarily at the precipice of contractions then. She also mentioned that Grub is still 3/5 engaged, and my sigh of frustration seemed to surprise her – she said that there’s nothing wrong with that at all, and that she could drop the rest of the way right as labour starts. It’s more important that she’s engaged at all, rather than to what extent.
So there you have it. Still playing the waiting game, and I have the stretch and sweep next week if nothing happens between now and then. My due date is fast approaching, and I can only hope Grub wants to make her grand entrance close to that date, because another 2 weeks of waiting and I may just go insane.
See you at the (hopefully) last week!