He’s here

If you haven’t already heard, the Boy is here with us — he joined our family last Thursday night.  8 lb 3 oz, 20 inches long and absolutely beautiful.

I’ve been trying to piece things together for a real post, but that looks like it’s a while off now.  Cliff notes version, short easy labor (with the epidural which was totally worth it), followed by jaundice, milk coming in latelate, and finally things starting to look like they’ll sort themselves out. 

I’ll be around, and hopefully get to finish up my birth story post which got half-done in the hospital and is now wasting away in my drafts folder. 

Be back as soon as I can!

 

No, I haven’t had the baby yet.

Some choice quotes from the other night with my husband’s family:

• Gramma: Why, you’re not nearly as big as I thought you’d be by now!
• Aunt: Oh, she’s ready to deliver any day now — just look at her nose!
• SIL: Let me break it to you, you won’t be getting your belly back any time soon.

Thanks.  Just thanks.

I started having contractions Tuesday afternoon, which freaked me out enough to call Manly and ask him to keep his phone nearby, which freaked him out enough to come home and stay with me even though all I did was go upstairs to take a nap.  Since then I’ve been contracting on and off, randomly.  Some of them are painless Braxton-Hicks, some of them feel more like menstrual cramps but wrapping around to my lower back.  But nothing that suggests that anything real will be happening anytime soon.

Of course this is when Manly’s family decides to come into town.  And his aunts all want to TOUCH me.  Which is something that makes me a little uncomfortable on any given day, but right now totally makes me want to lose my mind.  His entire family is very huggy and wants kisses and to rub my belly.  But I have been feeling very … vulnerable, I guess, is the best description.  My body is not mine anymore, and I’m having to be careful not to run into furniture or hit my stomach when I open doors.  Stairs make me feel like I’m just going to topple over.  Add into that the I’m-due-at-any-moment-and-just-want-to-protect-this-baby-until-he’s-out feeling, and the idea of people who are not Manly or my mother laying hands on me makes me want to curl into a ball and hide in the corner.

And since they’re all leaving this weekend, everyone is telling me I HAVE to have the baby before they go back to NorthernCity. 

Yeah, right.

 

37 weeks

Another quickie since I’m supposed to be helping someone else with a project…

• 37 weeks is considered full-term at their office, and they would not do anything to stop labor at this point
• 3+ cm dialated (almost 4)
• 25% effaced
• -2 station
• negative for group b strep
• blood pressure 114/64
• no weight gain since last visit (up total of 24 lb at this point)
• baby’s heart beat 154 bpm
• quote, “If I was a betting man, I’d bet that you won’t make it til next week’s appointment.”  Sharah’s note: remember, this is the same guy who told me I wouldn’t make it to term last visit.
• if I haven’t delivered by my appointment next Monday, they’ll look to see what his schedule is the week that I’m due and we can schedule an induction on a day he is on call (if I want it).  Per his professional opinion though, I’m not going to need one.  I’m apparently “very favorable” for delivery via Mother Nature.
• and no, I’m not having any contractions.  A few cramps/back spasms here and there, but nothing that lasts longer than me going “OUCH” and rubbing the owie spot. 

 

Checking in

Now I appear to have reached “that” point.  The point where random friends and family have started checking in to make sure I haven’t had the baby and we decided to keep it a secret from all and sundry.  Really, peeps, when the baby is here, we will be shouting it from the rooftop.  The hospital has wireless internet for a reason.

We have an appointment tomorrow at the local photography place to get a formal sitting of me and Manly before the baby comes.  It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while, but the last few weeks I’ve been afraid that the baby would come at any point.  As of right now, I’m thinking that this kid is going to be just as stubborn, hard-headed, and opinionated as his parents — and he’s decided to prove the doctor wrong.  So we will get pictures made of us, and then we will go back again after he is here and have family portraits done.  One thing I really want to do is what one of my girlfriends did — she had portraits made every three months of her little girl and mailed them out to all of us so that we could keep track of her during the first year (she is living 6 hours away so we don’t see her often). 

They’ve started a set of delivery date squares for me at work.  The earliest date (from what I was told) is this Sunday afternoon at 2:00 and the latest is November 11.  I don’t really want to think about either of those coming true.  My girlfriend at work is fairly confident that I’ll be the weekend of the 24th.  We are really similar physically, her son’s original due date was 11/7 (how’s that for freaky) and his birthday is the 25th.  I personally am just hoping for an October baby so that I can cram him into the “Baby’s First Halloween” onesie that got passed to me from Jessica.  Cause if next year is baby’s first halloween, he ain’t going to fit into that outfit.

And now I’m distracted by someone rolling around and my belly moving … have no idea anymore what I was going to say.  Oh well, couldn’t have been that important.

 

No news is … no news, I guess.

I’ve apparently reached “that” point — where all the women in my office (especially those about my mother’s age) pass me in the hall, look at me with pity, and go “Oh, honey, when are you due?”

My boss even said that he could tell I was there when I waddled into his office yesterday. 

My pelvis feels like it’s trying to split down the joint in the front (depending on how far down he’s curled up) and it hurts to get up and walk.  My hands ache in the joints because they’ve gotten so swollen.  I keep seeing mucus-y stuff when I go potty, but nothing doing. 

I know that this all means that he isn’t ready yet, but I am definitely there.