That probably doesn’t look like a girl who’s not only sick with a nasty cold in the end stages of pregnancy, but who also suddenly feels scared. It probably doesn’t look like a girl whose blood pressure has crept up to a level that is concerning her midwife enough so that she’s talking about encouraging this baby to come out and meet the world sooner rather than later. It probably doesn’t look like a girl who’s dissolved into tears more than once today.
That’s the story, though.
Other than the cold, I feel fine, but my blood pressure, which has stayed beautifully under control up until now, has suddenly decided to play games with me. I’m going in for a blood and urine workup Monday morning, and depending upon what that shows, my midwife may be coaxing labor within the next few days. And I’m scared. Because I don’t want to deal with an induction (even a “natural” one). Because I don’t feel ready to have this baby (how crazy is that?). Because I suddenly feel a little helpless, and am reminded how much of life is really out of my control. Because, because, because.
Stay tuned . . . and think good thoughts for me, huh?
And now I will bore you with a pregnancy report:
My midwife came over this morning for my monthly prenatal checkup, and everything is looking good. I got to hear the baby’s heartbeat with the fetoscope for the first time (I was never able to pick it up on the fetoscope during my last pregnancy) and it was pretty awesome. It just sounded truer somehow – not amplified or distorted like on the doppler.
The best news is that my blood pressure is looking really good these days. It’s been probably the biggest concern, as even with the bp med my doc switched me to when I found out I was pregnant, it was still hovering around 140/70. I’ve been taking some supplements for a few weeks now, however, and it seems to have made a world of difference in my bp, which is now consistently 125ish/60ish.
Have I mentioned how much I adore midwifery care? And specifically my midwife? She was here for about two hours this morning, not only doing my prenatal, but just shooting the shit. You just can’t get that from an OB.
In other news, my current condition has sparked curiosity from Lilah, age 5, about exactly how babies get in mommies’ tummies. She’s been asking for a couple of days and I’ve stalled her until I couldn’t stall her anymore. Dammit, why do I always get stuck with these conversations?
Here’s a recap from about a half hour ago:
Lilah: Mommy, you promised this morning that you would tell me after school how babies get into mommies’ tummies. Now will you tell me?
Me: Um, yes, well. Okay. So, when boys and girls are GROWNUPS, and when they love each other very much, sometimes they show each other that they love each other by laying very close together. And . . . ahem . . . well, a part of the man’s body fits inside a part of the woman’s body. [Sigh.] And . . . er, well . . . um, and then sometimes that makes a baby start growing in the mommy’s tummy.
Lilah [very seriously]: But only girls can grow babies, right? How come?
Me: Well, um . . . because only girls have the right parts to grow a baby.
Lilah: But boys have the right parts to make a baby, right?!
Me: Right. Now, how about some ice cream?