Perfect

This is the word that describes him best. We got to 36 weeks and he has passed all his "late pre-term" tests with flying colors.

Sept. 26, 2009? Happiest day of my life.

Here is our 6-pound, 19-inch bundle of joy:

by Sunday

"I predict you'll have this baby by Sunday." These are the words of my ob/gyn, folks.

The bleeding? Cervix. Got confirmation by ultrasound that baby is still active, there is lots of fluid and nothing unholy is bleeding.

Speaking of the cervix, it's still 3cm dilated and now 85% effaced.

What about the lungs? "Baby will be fine. Maybe some time in the NICU, but baby will be fine." says the doc to the anxious mom.

How big is baby? Six pounds give or take 15%. My math says that's a range from just over 5 pounds to just under 7. Guess that's not bad for 35 weeks and 3 days...

I've heard twice now that the birth will be fast and easy...(insert your bad high school joke here). I was tempted to ask if there was a guarantee on that claim.

To sum it all up, baby's ready but mommy's not...guess I see now who's running this show.

cocktail, anyone?

The hormonal cocktail, that is. Combined with a side of too-much-Google pie. Why did I go to the March of D.imes site and read abut increased developmental issues for babies born between 35 and 37 weeks? Why was I trucking up the stairs just hours before my Thursday appt. thinking, "I am a fit pregnant gal. Look at me go!" Ah, hubris.

Luckily, contractions have hardly been an issue. KNOCK WOOD!!! However, my achy pelvis and my ever-lower belly are telling me that baby has hit the down button on the elevator and now I am starting to worry that my water will break.

I know, I know-baby will probably be fine and many are born a lot earlier. I'm just hoping he is listening when his mommy tells him how good he's got it: his own private pool and personal buffet? That is luxury, sonny boy.

A very bloody show

So yesterday a gal walks into a doctor's office....Hmmm, I never was really good at jokes. Maybe I should start at the beginning. Last Friday I called the nurses b/c there was ever so slight a streak of pink mixed with the regular mucus when I wiped. (TMI, but you are probably used to that, dear reader.) Nice nurse said, "might be your mucus plug starting to work its way out. Keep an eye on it and let us know if anything changes." And that was it. Or so I thought. It seemed to have stopped.

At my regular appointment yesterday, the doc took a swab for the strep test and since she had noticed my call to the nurses in my patient notes, she asked about it. I played it down (doctor that I am not), but she said, "let's just take a look."

Survey says? Three centimeters dilated. Um. hold up. Record scratch. Whaaaaat???? She told me on the one hand that some women walk around for weeks at 3 cm dilation, but that I should stay home from work today and that no, I could not go away this weekend as we had planned. Obviously, the more time baby stays in my womb, the better off he'll be.

I drive straight home like a good doobie. Walk up the stairs. Go to the bathroom. You know. Routine stuff. Until my routine suddenly changes. Blood in my undies. Heavy period flow. Also something that looks like a dark red slug on the tp. I call my doctor. Only I call the wrong one, b/c I have been calling my PCP for the past few weeks asking if the mercury-free flu shots are in yet (got one). Call the right number but realize it's after 5 and they will have to page the person on call and I will have to wait, bleeding on the bathroom floor. This movie-esque image combined with my oh-so-creative mind that had me convinced my placenta had ruptured were just too much for me. Did I mention I was home alone? Did I mention blood is not something I enjoy finding in my underpants? Did I mention I have not had any contractions and this really does not seem to be the correct order of events? So, I called 911. By then I had regained some semblance of calm an called my Sweetie, too.

How does this story end? Hopefully with a lot more time in the oven for the wee one. They monitored baby's heart rate and my contractions (I did start to have some in the ambulance ride), checked my cervix again (same), made sure the bleeding subsided. I am now on bed rest for at least a week and should call if contractions are consistently 10 minutes apart (rather than the usual 5 minutes).

It felt good to write that all down. Now I can let go of some of it and just rest.

September

September is here and we are back at school. One final hurrah of summer this weekend as we celebrate a friend's wedding in Maine.

I do not have too much to report. My family threw me a lovely shower last weekend and it now looks like Santa Claus, at the end of his route, decided to dump off the remaining contents of his sleigh in our living room. Family and friends, thank you.

I do not weigh myself anymore. The one doctor I do not particularly love at our practice (and I'm sure will be the one on call when I go into labor) asked me if I drink a lot of fruit juice or eat a lot of ice cream. I felt like a fat kid being reprimanded. Then he went on to say a lot of tall woman gain 40-45 pounds and then lose it relatively easily. So my question is, "Why be a jerk and ask stupid questions, then?" I am not letting it bother me, not getting on the scale anymore and politely refusing to answer when rude people inquire how much weight I have gained. I am happy to report that tons of people who have not seen me all summer are commenting that I look great, am all baby, am only pregnant from the front, yadda yadda. There are just too many of them saying this to allow me chalk it up to the "they are just being nice" category.

I go from excited to nervous, but mostly excited about this baby's arrival. Still very much enjoying being pregnant and trying to relish it. Relish is less cliché than pickles, I figure.