Suddenly, I felt something… change.

There was still absolutely no pain, but I began to feel some pressure… down there. (ha) I waited a moment to see if it would pass, then I told the Hubster what I was feeling and asked whether or not he thought we should get a nurse.

He had been in the room the entire time and heard both the nurses and my midwife tell me that it would be hours before I delivered, so we both thought that there was no way that it could be baby time already. I mean, everyone had just left. We waited a moment, but when the pressure stayed I asked him to run out to the nurses station… just to be sure.

My new nurse (night shift) came in with a student and they chuckled a little when I told her that I thought it might be baby time. She had been in the room when I was given the epidural and knew how far along I had been, and how far I still had to go. She offered to check me to ease my mind.

Seconds later her eyes opened wide and she confirmed that the wee-bean was definitely on her way and flew out of the room to begin making calls. The Hubster whipped out his cell phone to try and reach my parents, and nurses and equipment began streaming into my room.

I kept my eyes on the clock as the pressure increased and there was still no sign of my parents, Olivia or Dr. Evil. My nurses prepped everything, eased my legs into the stirrups and began talking me through what would happen as we waited.

My mom and dad made it back first. Big Dad camped out in the waiting room with his cell phone and sudoku book and mom came into the room with me. We waited another few minutes, but I knew that the wee-bean was ready to make her grand entrance, doctor or no doctor.

Again, everything actually felt really… neat. I could feel the pressure with each contraction, and my body was definitely signalling that it was time to push, but there was no pain.

Magical.

My nurses realized that it was “go time” and that things were going to start without Olivia or Dr. Evil. I had my mom on one side and the Hubster on the other as I began to deliver shortly after 10pm.

Olivia flew into the room a few minutes later, apologizing for being late. She also found it rather funny that this little wee-bean–who had stubbornly stayed put for 10 days–was suddenly sprinting toward the finish line.

As I began to push I thought, “Gee, this isn’t so bad. I can do this!”

…then the heartburn that had plagued me throughout my pregnancy reared its ugly head for one last battle. Imagine trying to deliver a baby while fighting an intense, constant urge to throw up.

My poor, amazing Hubster was doing all he could to help ease my discomfort. He rotated between feeding me Tums, offering me water and holding a bucket next to my head throughout the entire ordeal. Thankfully I was able to spare him and conquered the urge to vomit.

Minutes before the wee-bean arrived Dr. Evil reappeared in my room. He jumped in and the most painful part of the delivery began–stretching. No one told me about stretching before I delivered… and now I know why. (ha) Even the epidural couldn’t take the edge off that one.

Then, at 10:56pm Dr. Evil told me to push one last time… and she was here. It was absolutely the most incredible and surreal moment that I have ever experienced. This small wiggly bean that I had felt moving in my belly for months was suddenly held up in front of me… and she was so beautiful. After quickly cleaning her Olivia handed her to me with a smile.

There is absolutely nothing in the world that can prepare you for holding your child for the very first time. This tiny little head rests on your chest and you are filled with an overwhelming awe that you created that. This tiny, perfect person who you’ve only known for seconds but already love more fiercely than you knew was possible. As I held her for the first time, the Hubster came in close and we both studied our little girl–our daughter. Suddenly nothing else mattered: my fears about being induced, going through labor, Dr. Evil–it all melted away, forgotten in that moment.

As we laughed at the craziness of it all, we remembered that we needed to give our little wee-bean a name. For months he and I had been back and forth between two names, and knew we couldn’t decide without meeting her.

As soon as I held her we knew: she was Ruby, our little Valentine.

I had my eyes squeezed tight and was trying to imagine myself in a happy place when he announced that I had dilated to 3cm, which was great progress from where I was this morning. By this point the effects of the gel had long since worn off and my body was finally progressing though labor on its own. He let me know that I wouldn’t need another round of the gel and instead wanted to break my water for me.

I’m not going to lie, this was one of the most painful things I have ever been through in my life. I think I already told you that Dr. Evil was not… gentle. As he broke my water (with a big scary looking stick thing) I was in so much pain that I had to beg him to stop. He finally took one quick break so I could breathe, then continued while I cried out in pain. At the end of it he finally realized that I had been in actually pain during the procedure and apologized to me for it before leaving me writhing on the bed. My nurse did her best to help me get comfortable, then she too left so it was just the Hubster and I alone in the room.

He shifted his chair so that he was a little closer and held my hand as my contractions began to intensify. Within 30 minutes my contractions shifted from being uncomfortable to painful. There was nothing I could do to get comfortable in bed, so I decided to try another jacuzzi bath to see if that would help. My nurse (who I was ready to be BFFs at this point) came back in to help me run a bath and ease my aching body into it. The contractions continued in regular increments, and each one seemed to feel a little stronger. I soon decided that I was okay with exploring some options to help ease my discomfort.

I sent the Hubster to go find out what was available to me at this point in my labor. My nurse told me that I hadn’t progressed far enough to warrant an epidural, but that she could give me a shot of Demerol and Gravol to help take the edge off. Shortly after 6pm I gratefully accepted the shot and awaited the relief.

It didn’t come.

My contractions continued to increase in strength and by 6:30 there was little I could do to ease them. The needle I was given didn’t help with the pain, it just made me feel incredibly tired and a little loopy. I wanted to try walking again to see if that would help, but I was so tired that I could barely make it to the nurses station before I was ushered back into bed. As I curled up in a ball to manage the pain I let the nurse know that I was ready for the epidural as soon as it was available. She made a quick call and let me know that the anesthesiologist was just finishing a surgery and would be down as soon as she could.

I honestly don’t remember much of what happened between 6:30 and 8pm. My contractions–which had been regular until then–began to come in non-stop waves. Instead of a regular pattern of an intense contraction followed by a break, I would have non-stop contractions for about 10 minutes before my body allowed me a 30 second window to breathe.

Then it would begin again.

As this new phase of labor began, I was curled up in a ball with one hand gripping the bed rail, and the other tightly wrapped in the Hubster’s hand. With each wave I was sure that it would be the last one I felt before the anesthesiologist would arrive. My mind took me somewhere else and it felt a bit like I was popping in and out of the room. Olivia arrived at some point and encouraged me to try and have a shower to ease the pain, but I had bonded with my position at the bed rail and I was determined not to move. haha

For an hour and a half the waves continued until finally, finally the anesthesiologist arrived. I opened my eyes to see a new shift of nurses, and as they checked to see if I had progressed any further I learned that I had dilated to 7cm. After feeling like my body wasn’t working for nearly 2 weeks, it apparently decided to move into hyperdrive and my labor was speeding along.

Finally it was epidural time. I’ll be honest: I was initially afraid of having one. I had read about the possible side effects and had seen pictures of the needle they used to start them. However, after a few hours of hard, non-stop contractions, I was beyond ready for some relief.

The team that came in to hook me up was incredible. For starters, Dr. Evil was no where in sight and instead I had a lovely female doctor who seemed to have a better understanding of what my body was going through. She and the team of nurses were so quick that I had my epidural before I even knew it had happened…

…and I never saw a thing. They didn’t let me see any of the equipment or needles so there was absolutely no unnecessary fear, and they were in and out of my room in minutes. It took a few minutes to kick in, but soon I felt my body relax and the discomfort that I had been feeling melted away.They were initially a little concerned about my oxygen levels so I had to wear a mask for a few minutes, but after that it was smooth sailing.

The epidural was actually one of the coolest things I have ever experienced. I could feel absolutely everything, but there was no pain. I could feel the contractions when they happened, but they no longer hurt, and I retained all the feeling in my legs and lower body.

And so, after being awake for nearly 2 days straight, I finally began to drift into an easy sleep, rambling to the Hubster about how much I loved epidurals. Olivia and my new nurses told me to rest as my labor would likely slow down a little. It was nearly 8:30pm and everything was progressing beautifully. Olivia and Dr. Evil headed home as I wasn’t expected to deliver before the morning, and my mom and dad slipped out to take a break and grab some dinner. Soon it was just the Hubster and I in my little darkened room, ready to rest for the night before the wee-bean’s arrival the next morning.

Well, the wee-bean had had enough waiting and made other plans, as wee-beans are oft to do. Within an hour I knew we wouldn’t be waiting until the next day…

It’s a grey, rainy afternoon and I finally found myself with my arms free for the first time in weeks. I know I kind of fell off the face of the earth for a while, but I do have an explanation.

Over a month ago I left you with part two of my wee-bean story. I do intend to finish it, but I took a deliberate hiatus from writing it. You see, as I was writing part three, we received news that someone very close to us had lost her full-term baby. Then, just four days later I learned that another friend had miscarried her baby as well… and she too was several months along. Suddenly I felt like it was selfish for me to be telling my story–complaints and all–when I had my little wee one, regardless of how she got here. I would like to finish her birth story, but I just needed to give it some time.

And I needed to hold her tightly for several days straight.

…but by doing that I think I squeezed her love for naps right out of her. For the past couple of weeks Ruby and I have been at war. She woke up once day and decided that naps are for little babies, and since she is now a big girl of almost 3 months, she no longer needs them.

Ha.

For days and days she would only nap in short 30 minute bursts, never getting the sleep she needed. So, by 6 or 7pm my sweet little baby would turn into a cute little crankpot who was desperately overtired. My “hands-free” time suddenly disappeared, and what time I would have loved to have spent writing was filled with trying to keep my house from looking like a bomb blew up inside it.

I am slowly getting her back into napping through a steady routine that she seems to be adapting to. As I write she is curled up in our bed fast asleep. Life is good.

I am hoping to figure in some writing time into our new schedule, and I hope that another huge blog break won’t ever happen again. I have so much to tell you… like the mushroom I found growing out of my baseboard. Exciting!

Well my lovelies, thanks for sticking with me through the last few months. I hope I’m back for good this time. :)

And still no contractions.

The Hubster and I got ready, made plans to have my parents meet us later, then it was off to the hospital. We walked in together, very aware that the next time we left our little family would have grown from two to three.

We arrived at the maternity ward at 7:30am. We were shown to our room by our nurse (whom I came to love), then sent to another wing to register and be officially admitted. Twenty minutes later we walked back and I was relieved to see Olivia (my midwife) waiting for us. At this point the OB was no where in sight.

Olivia began explaining how the day would unfold. Before the OB could begin the induction, they wanted to make sure that all was well with the baby and I. I changed into a stylish hospital gown and she and the Hubster helped me get comfortable in bed. The next hour was spent hooked up to a fetal monitor listening to the wee-bean’s heart beat. She was still dancing away in my belly, so we kept having to move it around to try and find her. When Olivia was assured that the wee-bean’s heart rate was strong, she called in the OB to begin the induction.

At 9am he arrived with a slew of nurses. My little room was suddenly full of people, and everyone seemed busy with a different task. My nurse explained a little about what was happening, but before I knew it the OB wanted to examine me and get things going.

It was at this moment that I began “affectionately” calling him Dr. Evil.

The 9am examination was extremely uncomfortable. I lay on the bed with my eyes squeezed shut chanting my mantra for the day over and over in my head: “It’s just one day. It’s just one day. It’s just one day.” He let me know that I was still not dialating, and that the baby was actually sitting at -3cm… 3cm further back than where she should be. He then did a “Search and Sweep” (ow.) and inserted the prostaglandin gel to try and stimulate my body and get things moving. He let me know that he’d be back in 6 hours to check my progress.

After he finished and the whirlwind of nurses left the room, I was again hooked up to a fetal monitor and had to lay still for another hour while they monitored the baby’s reaction to the gel. My contractions during that first hour were very painful, but they were still sporadic and I could talk through them. The Hubster and my mom kept me company while Big Dad camped out in the waiting room with Suduko and a book. I don’t know what I would have done if they hadn’t been there–sadly my little hospital room did not have a TV so there was precious little to pass the time and help distract me from the contractions.

Shortly after 10am I was finally allowed to leave my bed and my little hospital room. The nurses encouraged me to walk as much as I could as it would help bring on contractions and ease their pain. The Hubster and I established a little route around the hospital and began doing laps. I had to return each hour to check on the baby’s heart rate, then we’d be off again. Shortly before lunch I decided to try and rest a little as I had barely slept the night before.

My contractions at this point hadn’t really increased in frequency or strength, but it was still difficult to try and sleep through. Laying quietly for a few moments helped me finally accept that even though this wasn’t how I had imagined having our baby, she was finally on her way. Something inside me switched, and I was able to let go of a lot of the negativity I had been harboring since I realized that the induction was actually happening the day before.

We decided to walk to the cafeteria to see my mom and dad, and as I paraded into Tim Horton’s I realized that I was the only one in the entire cafeteria who was wearing a hospital gown. haha! What can I say, I like to make a statement. I picked at a few things for lunch, then we headed back to our room. The nurses had suggested that I try taking a jacuzzi bath to help relax, so after a few more laps around our route I decided to give it a whirl. Even though the tub was in the bathroom in my private room, it felt weird to have a bath in such a public place. Everyone told me that you let go of your modesty when you give birth–I wasn’t there yet.

Just before 3pm I made my way back to bed, ready for my next visit with Dr. Evil. The six hours had finally passed and I was beyond ready to see if I had progressed at all. My contractions were still irregular, but it felt like they were getting a bit stronger.

Well, 3pm came and went, and there was no sign of the OB. The Hubster and I chatted with my mom to try and make the waiting seem a bit more bearable, but I felt like I was watching the clock constantly.

As 4pm ticked ever closer, I felt my frustration level go through the roof. The Hubs went off to find our nurse to see if she knew where he was, and we found out that he had been called for some emergency in the ER but would be with us very shortly.

At 5pm he finally arrived with another tornado of nurses… and that’s when my labor really began.

Seven weeks ago today I was already several days past my due date, and I confessed my anxieties and reservations about being induced to you. Time continued to pass, and by Friday, February 10th it looked as though the induction was happening. My midwife booked an appointment for me to meet with an obstetrician for the following Monday, though we both had our fingers crossed that I would go into labor naturally over the weekend.

Well, the weekend came and went and the wee-bean still rested comfortably in my belly. The Hubster and I woke up bright and early on February 13th to begin our day of appointments–the OB, the midwife, then another ultrasound.

I was really nervous to meet the OB. Here I had spent months developing a close relationship with my midwife, whom I love, thinking that she would be the one to deliver my baby. Now I was faced with the idea that some strange man would be the one do it. I wasn’t terribly impressed.

The Hubster and I arrived for the appointment and I immediately got the impression that this doctor’s office was not a fan of midwifery. As the nurses began my check-in, there were continually comments like: “Did they have you taking prenatal vitamins?” or “We’ll just get you on the scale. I know midwives don’t check things like that.”

…umm, thanks, but my midwife was very thorough and followed my weight at every visit.

I returned to my seat and waited to meet the almighty OB. After the attitude of the nurses, my nerves were even more raw than they had been before though I tried hard to cover it. Finally the doctor came out and invited us into his office.

He seemed nice enough, though he had a strange sense of humor and his attitude was a little brisk. We quickly covered the basics, then went over how I would be induced. He then confirmed that it was time for the wee-bean to be delivered and booked me a check-in time at the hospital for the following morning. The Hubster and I looked at each other and realized that our little girl would potentially be with us the following day.

As we began grasping this new reality, the OB asked me to jump up on his examination table to see how far I had progressed. He left the room for a moment so I could get ready, and my anxiety level flew through the roof.

Not that anyone enjoys it, but I hate being examined. I am extremely shy / private and even had a hard time letting my (female) doctor or midwife do it for my yearly tests. As they themselves are both female and understand that it’s an uncomfortable procedure, they both take their time and are very gentle.

This doctor was not.

As I lay in utter discomfort on his table, I prayed that this would not be a glimpse of what I faced tomorrow. He revealed that I had still not dilated at all, and began making jokes that I would definitely need the epidural the next day, and commented that a c-section was still on the table.

As he left so I could redress, I felt my anxiety level rise and my emotions began to bubble over. It took everything in my not to cry in his office. I didn’t really want to have the baby this way, and I wasn’t 100% comfortable with this new man delivering it. Still, I knew it was the best option for the baby so I pulled myself together and agreed to check in to the hospital at 7:30am the following morning.

The rest of the day was hard for me, and even seeing the wee-bean’s cute face during the ultrasound did little to diminish my fears.

So, after all our appointments the Hubster and I headed home. He had a few tasks to finish around the house before the baby arrived, so I slipped upstairs for a few quiet moments in our bedroom.

And I cried.

I wanted to be excited so badly, but all I felt was… loss. I felt like I had lost the calm peace I had felt throughout my entire pregnancy knowing that Olivia was delivering my baby. I felt like I no longer knew what to expect, and the uncertainty was devastating to me. And most of all, I felt that not going into labor naturally was my body failing to do what it was supposed to, and I lost the confidence that I’d had. I no longer felt like I could do this.

I curled up into a ball (a big ball) on my bed and wept for a good half an hour before I picked myself up, called my sister, then cried some more.

It was the first time I really let myself be scared about what my body was going to go through in just a few short hours. The Hubster came upstairs and found me, and bless his heart he did his best to console me. Knowing that he had absolute confidence in me helped a little, as did knowing that we’d have our sweet girl at the end of the experience.

But I still felt like I was missing out on an experience I had imagined for months… you know, the whole waking up with contractions and trying to decide whether or not this was real labor thing. I had imagined myself curled up at home, doing housework or watching movies as I endured the early hours of labor, not being cooped up in a hospital room.

But, c’est la vie.

By the early evening I had accepted my new reality and my parents arrived to help distract me. We spent a few hours visiting with them, then it was time for bed. The Hubster and I curled up and again he tried to reassure me. After letting him know that I’d be okay, he rolled over and fell asleep, trying to rest up for our big day tomorrow.

Sadly, I did not.

Granted, some of those short weeks had some incredibly long days, but when I look at my little Ruby I can’t believe she’s already been a part of our family for that long.

Shortly after she was born, everyone told me that things seem to take a corner by 6 weeks, and that things would get a little easier. They were right. Not that Ruby has been a difficult baby–it couldn’t be more opposite–but she does need my attention much of the time, and I happily give it to her.

(She’s simply too cute. I can’t say no.)

However, that being said, I am enjoying the little routine we are slipping into. Ruby now only wakes up once (maybe twice) a night to eat, then usually falls back asleep immediately after. She loves to nap in the morning and will usually sleep in her bassinet for an hour or two after we snuggle in my rocking chair.

The rest of our days are spent going for walks, watching hockey with dad, and she’s beginning to spend more and more time awake and alert… and she is now beginning to smile.

Be still my heart.

There is nothing cuter than when she smiles at you. I melt. She smiled at me once and I cried.

Yup. I’ve become that person.

Life is pretty good these days. We just had a wonderful visit with the Hubster’s parents who flew in to meet her for the first time. It was a busy few days, but it was so good to see them and Ruby definitely enjoyed spending time with her Grandma. We held her baby blessing on Sunday and a huge troop of family and friends came down to see and support her. The Hubster and I hosted a “little” lunch at our home afterward, and by the time everyone arrived we realized that we had 31 people in our little house. It was busy, but glorious. Ruby had all four of her grandparents there to spoil her, and they all took turns stealing her and hiding in various corners of my house to have a quiet snuggle.

(She is very snuggly. I love it.)

Things have settled a bit and I am loving our little home life. I finally feel like I’m beginning to get the hang of this whole motherhood thing, and I’m finding a bit of a balance between caring for Ruby and keeping my home in a socially acceptable state. My next goal is to reincorporate writing into that equation.

And date nights.

(Wanna babysit? She’s pretty cute…)

It’s a bit easier now that she’ll sleep on her own… right now she is curled up in her little blue bouncy chair next to me while I write. I can’t promise that it’ll be every day, but I am  hoping to ease back into a better writing schedule.

Once every 3 weeks just isn’t doing it for me.

But for now I see two very cute eyes looking at me and two very cute cheeks that need to be kissed.

Woo wee! I really didn’t mean to let three weeks go by between posting, but it’s been a little busy around here. :)

If I am able to turn my computer on once every few days it’s a miracle, and even then it’s usually just for a few minutes before something else requires my attention. So, I decided to get creative. I found a handy little wordpress app for my phone, so I’m going to try writing from here for the time being and see how it goes!

As I type I have a (not so) little wee-bean snuggled against my chest. She is nearly 4 weeks old, and for the time being loves to be held while she sleeps. She is very cute and snuggly ,but it makes it a bit difficult to get anything done. She will take short naps if we put her down, but if we want her to get a good sleep one of us needs to hold her… Hence my lack of writing time. :)

But let me backtrack for a minute. I last left you with my anxieties about being induced, and I actually have another post about this… But after all that our little wee-bean finally arrived on February 14th at 10:56pm. I am writing out the details of that day, and if you’d like I can post them here– it was a wild day!

The Hubster and I had been debating back and forth between two names for months, but as soon as we met her we knew who she was. At long last, our little Ruby* was here!

Most days I wake up and I can’t believe she’s finally here… And that the Hubster and I made something so perfect. She has been a wonderful baby… She doesn’t cry much and really only fusses when she really needs something. We’ve had a few rough nights, and she has a verrrry healthy appetite (which means there are days where it feels like she is permanently attched to me) but for the most part Ruby is settling into our lives like she has always been part of our family. Life is definitely a little different (finding time to shower is beyond exciting) but it has been a wonderful adventure.

As I figure out this phone blogging thing I hope to get back to my regular writing… I’ve really missed it!

Thanks for all your kind words and patience… I hope that I’ll figure out this blogging / parenting balance soon! :)

How Far Along: 41 Weeks*
Size of Baby: A Mini Watermelon
Weight Gain: 27 pounds

Movement: She is definitely moving less now that she has less space, but all things considered she’s still very active. The coolest part is now I can feel exactly what’s moving inside me–I can tell when it’s a foot bumping out, or a hand sliding across my belly, and I can always tell where her little bum is positioned. haha

She still gets the hiccups, though it’s not nearly as often. She went from having them 2 – 3 times a day to having them once every 2- 3 days.

Cravings: Oh, I would have died for a pizza last night…

Food Aversions: Nothing this week.

Symptoms: I am… round. That’s my biggest symptom. haha! My belly hasn’t really grown much in the past few weeks, but it’s still large and makes my movements pretty awkward. I have a hard time shifting positions, especially if I’m trying to sit up after lying down.

I go to the bathroom. A lot. Depending on how much I drink in the evenings, I am usually up anywhere from 3 – 4 times a night. Thankfully I’m still sleeping really well and can pass right back out after I roll back into bed.

I hurt my foot this week, and that has been all kinds of not fun. I’ve basically been immobile for the last three days while I try to mend whatever damage I did to the arch of my foot. It’s definitely getting better, but the muscles underneath are still really tender to the touch. Fun!

Belly Button Watch: Still an inny!

Baby Prep: We are pretty much prepped at this point! Her clothes are washed, her crib and bassinet are ready, and her diaper bag is already in the car. The last touch we added this week was hanging a cute moon lamp on the wall above her crib so she won’t have to sleep in the dark. :)

Contraction Watch: Yes and no. I’ve had a few bouts of good contractions, but then they stop and I don’t feel anything. I get strong contractions when I’m out walking, or when I use my breast pump.

Things I’m Thinking About: You know, I expected the wee-bean to be late, but I never really thought much about being this late. It just goes to show that you can never ever predict these things…

I’m really glad that I opened up about my anxieties surrounding being induced on Tuesday. Most of the feedback I’ve since received has been really positive, and it’s made me feel worlds better about it. So, thank you. From the bottom of my heart. I’ve felt so calm about everything until now, I hated the idea of beginning labor with all these anxious thoughts people have put in my head.

That being said, I don’t really understand why so many women love to focus on the worst / hardest parts of childbirth and life with a newborn when talking about it with others. I have a whole post on this coming soon.

The wee-bean will be here (barring complications) in two sleeps. TWO SLEEPS.

…that also means that I’ll have a daughter in two sleeps.

And that I’ll be a mother in just two sleeps.

A mom. Me.

Holy crap.

There was also an outpouring of questions regarding why I was going to be induced if I was nervous about it. I probably should have explained better last night, but I was tired and more focused on the emotions behind what’s coming rather than the reasons for it.

First of all, my midwife is awesome and has let me make every single decision about this pregnancy every step of the way. She provides me with information, offers her opinion, then lets me decide how I want to proceed–even letting me mull things over for a few days if I need to before getting back to her.

Tuesday’s tentative induction date was a date that we talked about together. The week leading up to my due date, Olivia* and I discussed the reality that most first-time mothers pass their due dates and she wanted to have a plan in place in case that happened to me.

If you know anything about me, you’ll know that I like plans. I like schedules.

So, as you can’t always get in right away to see an OB for an induction at my hospital, she began talking to a few she knew and liked to see what my options were. After hearing back, she could only confirm a date with one OB–the others could only say that they would “try” and fit me in within a window of two – three days, which wasn’t firm enough for us.

So, Tuesday the 14th became our back-up plan.

When we first began discussing induction, Olivia let me know that she didn’t want to let me go much further than 10 days past my due date. I’ve been measuring a little under where I should be for the past several weeks, and I haven’t moved a centimeter in two weeks. So, when I was still a few days before my due date, 10 days after my due date seemed like a lifetime away.

But I liked having a plan in place.

I know that lots of people extend beyond 10 days past their due date–people I know have gone two weeks over–but another reason we picked a date before the two week mark was that induction does not always ensure immediate labor. Olivia wants to keep me within that two week window, so if I’m induced and it doesn’t work right away, we still have some time to play… the main goal being to avoid a c-section at all cost.

I also know there are other options to help speed up natural labor, and trust me, I’ve tried just about all of them. I’ve gone in three times to try a search and sweep with no success–my cervix has been closed each time. (Though there was noticeable progress at my last appointment. YAY)

So, for now I keep going and hope hope hope that things will progress on their own before Tuesday morning. I have a consult with the OB on Monday morning, as well as another ultrasound to make sure that my little wee-bean still has enough room in there and is getting everything she needs.

And, if she’s still not ready to make a move on her own, I’ll most likely check into the hospital bright and early Tuesday morning to get this show on the road.

So I would appreciate any good vibes you can send this way… hopefully we can will this little wee-bean out before Tuesday morning!

I haven’t felt terribly motivated to write this week.

The wee-bean’s due date was this past Sunday, though I had been fairly certain for some time that she would not be making her grand entrance into the world that day.

For the most part, I’ve been enjoying this quiet week with the Hubster. I’ve been sleeping in (all the way to 7am!), catching up on my favourite shows, and accomplishing all those tasks around the house that I’ve had rolling around in my mind. The wee-bean’s room is prepped and ready, her clothes are washed and organized, and her little library of books is neatly set out, ready for use.

I’ve also had a myriad of appointments all week long. They tend to watch you a little more closely once you’ve passed your due date, so I have been trekking back and forth to see my midwife, and I had an ultrasound today to make sure that she’s alright in there. All is well, but apparently my belly is just too dang comfortable. :)

It’s a bit funny: once you pass your due date it’s like everyone looks at you like a ticking time bomb. I feel like everyone is watching me waiting for me to either a) have this baby; or b) explode into a raving, anxious stress-case. At this point I’m not sure that either one will happen in the near future… haha! I’ve felt great all week, and still feel calm about my impending labor. While I would love for this wee-bean to arrive, I know she’ll come when she’s ready.

I just hope it’s before Tuesday.

My one niggling point of anxiety is that I’m nervous about being induced. My midwife doesn’t want to let me go more than 10 days past my due date, and has scheduled me for a tentative induction date on Tuesday. I’ve heard that labor and delivery is way more painful when it’s induced and I am not at all looking forward to any added discomfort. So, while I’m perfectly happy to let nature take its course and be calm about when she arrives, I’m just really, really, really hoping it happens over the weekend.

So, I’m testing out all the old tricks people have suggested–I’m eating pineapple, using my breast pump, eating spicy food and I was power walking two – three times a day…

…until I seriously injured my foot yesterday and now I can barely stand on it. I have absolutely no idea what caused it, but the muscles across the arch of my left foot are so, so sore and walking any type of distance is now out of the question. *sigh*

So now I feel like I have this big date looming over me, and I can feel the beginnings of anxious feelings creeping in as a result. While I was out walking I felt like I was at least doing something speed things along, and now I feel a bit like I’m back at a standstill. I’ve had to spend most of today with my feet up, as I’m sure labor / new mom duties will be slightly less stressful if I’m not also worried about a sore foot.

So, my little wee-bean… I’m so, so grateful that you gave me a few days to unwind after work ended, but we’re ready for you now and can’t wait to meet you. Come on out and play, okay? Okay.

Love,

Mom*