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Monthly Archives: August 2013

I Just Milked Myself

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Adding to the list of things I never thought I’d do to get this labor started…I just spent the last hour of my insomnia-riddled morning manually milking both my boobs to attempt to stimulate contractions. contractions= 0, Boob leak= 1.

I had a boob leak, y’all!

It was actually pretty cool. About 10 minutes in to stimulating my right boob, I felt a fluid coming out of it. So, yay. Now I know that my body is producing some form of colostrum. Now I just need a baby to enjoy it.

After an hour of nipple stim, I still have no contractions. I go in for another NST in about an hour to make sure Bagel is doing all right, and then I’m headed to Whole Foods to buy blue and black cohosh tablets to try and get contractions rolling that way.

Oh. And my friend who was due one full week after me just had her baby this morning.

Yay.

Updates on the NST to come.

Waiting game mind f*#k

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Warning: some negativity about pregnancy will be expressed in the ensuing entry.

I’m beginning to “get it” now. There is a point in pregnancy where your brain shifts from how warm and fuzzy pregnancy is, and how lucky you feel every day to be carrying a child, to a feeling of being trapped in your own body: large, immobile, and on edge. I believe I have reached that point. I’m trying to be calm about it all, but Week 41 of pregnancy is turning into one big mind fuck.

My mucus plug keeps coming out in snotty bits, I will occasionally experience some mild cramping, but mostly, Bagel doesn’t seem like she’s in a hurry to go anywhere. I get frustrated with the lack of labor symptoms every day, and there is only so much I can do anymore to occupy my mind. I am taking sick days from work the rest of this week as I need to shut down there. Thinking I could work up until my due date was great when I secretly thought that I would have Bagel at 39 weeks. Now, at 41 weeks + 4 days, I’m just a beached whale at a computer going through the motions.

There will be a few times during the evening where if I sit the right way I can feel her head butt against my cervix repeatedly. It hurts, but strangely, I like the pain. Bring it on, I say. Bring it the FUCK on.  I imagine her head butting her way out of here and finally feeling “not pregnant” with her. Not only do I want to meet my girl, I selfishly am starting to get very very tired of being pregnant. She is fully cooked and ready for the outside world, so it is hard to continue to be her personal incubator. I am also getting peppered with eyebrow raises and “I can’t believe you’re *allowed* to go this long” comments from friends and family. The “allowed” comment really bugs me for some reason. It completely removes any concept of my rights as a patient, and puts everything in the hands of my doctor, as if he is the only voice in the room. For me, personally, induction is a big deal. For others, it might not be, but for me, it’s not something that I take lightly. The fact that I wouldn’t be “allowed” to carry my child (assuming she’s perfectly healthy, which she is) past 41 weeks seems insane to me.

In 1999, there was a Harvard study conducted which put average gestation for first time births at 41 +1 weeks. We’re talking AVERAGE here: that means there are a lot of women who go later than this. I found an interesting blog entry on the study here.

Assuming this study is true, which according to multiple sites, I believe it is, it is absolutely INSANE to me that some docs will not “allow” their patients to go past 41 weeks when there are plenty of ways to ensure that your baby is continuing to thrive past your arbitrary 40 week “due date”.

This being said, it isn’t easy to mentally steel yourself for going past 41 weeks. Inductions are basically the norm if you go past 40 weeks, and it’s tempting to give in when your doc is pressuring you, you’re hearing terms like “old, dysfunctional placenta”, and you want to move on from pregnancy to actual motherhood. Physically, it does get uncomfortable at 41 weeks, and as the title of this post suggests, waiting for labor to start turns into a mind fuck. I find that if I wake up and I don’t feel Bagel moving, I get more panicked now. I feel bad, but in my nervousness about “placental function” I have taken to waking her up by chugging juice and eating something, just to make sure nothing is going wrong. Of course, she starts moving right away and then I feel bad that I’ve caused her to be active again at 3:30AM. Hubs is getting edgy…he hates waiting for a table at a restaurant on a Saturday night. I imagine being given a “due date” of July 21st and now having it be August 1st is sort of like being told your table will be ready in 10  minutes…for two weeks.

In other news, the Diflucan did jack shit for me. The yeast infection is back, and now that I’m so close to birth and I’ve lost my plug, the doc wants me just to use a Monistat cream around the outside irritated tissue. I’m very worried about the pain that a yeast infection could cause during birth, not to  mention the thrush that Bagel could get, and have been trying to drink some apple cider vinegar to treat from the inside, but nothing seems to be working. 9 months. 9 months without a yeast infection, and now I get one I can’t even treat before a watermelon-sized baby comes out of my vagina.

I will continue to keep everyone posted on the progress or lack thereof.