A few thoughts on two different days past my due date. It all seems a bit trivial now that baby boy is here BUT, the struggle was real.
8 days overdue over here and the hormones are no joke.
When my body isn’t uncomfortable from contractions, I’m disappointed. When it is uncomfortable, I’m too wary to let myself get excited. I feel like the boy who cried wolf. It’s the battle between just keeping it to myself and letting Ben know so he understands why I’m bowing out of bedtime routines (or dishes, or talking, or parenting in general).
At the most I can only be pregnant for another 5 days. Which is NOT very long in the scheme of things. But emotionally, it feels like I’m destined to be pregnant forever.
A sweet friend who shared my due date has had her twins in her arms for THREE WEEKS (which is also not that long in the grand scheme of things).
Current Pregnancy Symptoms:
- ligament pain
- trouble rolling over
- slight heartburn
- anemia (shortness of breath, high heart rate, exhaustion, irritability, and always wanting to chew ice)
- lots of braxton hicks contractions
For me, the contractions only really seem to start when I lie down in the afternoon and at the end of a long day. It is like my body saying “Okay, now that you’re done with the work of being a mom to Lincoln and Adelaide, it is time for your body to start the work of being a mom to this little one.” Does it ever end?
I’ve been preaching “plan something fun to do each day” but, honestly, I just sent Ben and the kids to the beach so I could stay home and clean. And write. And maybe nap.
10 days overdue and I’m scheduled for induction tomorrow.
The hormones are still raging and I go from being excited and hopeful (for labor to start on it’s own), to sobbing over little things (like a book falling off the shelf and hitting my face).
This morning though, in the quiet moments before the rest of the house wakes up, I am excited for one last day to get things done, knowing tomorrow I’ll have a baby in my arms.
It is the first time I’ve found myself thinking he really won’t come until I’m induced, that he won’t show up on his own before hand (and just watch, now that I’ve finally accepted this I’ll go into labor in a few hours).
I’m worried because baby doesn’t feel very low, especially not like the way I remember feeling for weeks with Adelaide, that she might just fall out of me while walking on the treadmill any minute. Enough articles have me thinking he isn’t engaged because he isn’t in quite the right position (despite last week’s untrasound and doctor’s check not saying anything about it), I’m worried this means a hard induction.
Sometime between the end of last week and now I’ve replaced my birth plan goal of “experience an unmedicated labor and delivery” with “get me a healthy baby without a lot of trauma.” I was hoping to go into labor on my own because, especially if this is my last baby, I wanted to know what the hype was around this unmedicated birth experience. I wanted to be able to relate when women talked about it. I wanted that powerful high of feeling “woman” they talk about when the baby is born.
But I also REALLY don’t want to birth a ten pound baby without an epidural. I don’t want to tear the way I assume I will with such a big + overdue baby and then get stitched up with no epidural. I don’t want pitocin with no epidural (horror flashbacks to that 30-45 minutes of pitocin contractions with Lincoln). And really, I just care a lot less now about how he gets here. I just care that he gets here. And that I’m done being pregnant. And that a healthy baby is in my arms and not my uterus.
In case you wondered how I really felt Sunday at 41 weeks and two days.
dress: Pink Blush Maternity (favorite places for maternity clothes all linked here)
black sandals (on sale)