Alright, again, this has taken me awhile to summarise and get up here on my blog. It's hard to believe that, as of when I am writing this post, 37 weeks is a month ago! At any rate, at 37 weeks +2 days, I had an OB appointment... and our first cervical check. That was certainly interesting (not too painful, but not very comfortable). Dr Hoang said my cervix was still closed, maybe dilated to 1/2 centimetre, but he didn’t think I’d make it to 40 weeks! (Sidenote: Too bad that estimate was off!) They finally did an ultrasound to estimate his weight, he was at 5.5 pounds, so Dr Hoang thought he’ll be around 6 pounds, 12 ounces to 7 pounds, 2 ounces by the time he’s born! :) Speaking of weight, I had only gained 1 pounds in 3.5 weeks, so that was a relief- I totally had thought I gained 5 pounds, but I guess he really had just dropped and that was the “weight” I was feeling! ;) And the best part was that the doctor was totally down with our birth plan when we shared it with him! :D He didn't just glance at it, either. He spent time going over it, and expressed his concern over a couple points (like taking photos/videos of the birth, which the hospital does not allow, period :|). So that was reassuring, for sure.
The next night (Friday), I woke up choking and hacking on my own vomit. After aspirating barf into my lungs, I had to induce full-blown vomiting into the toilet to even get any sort of relief. I got very little sleep, though gladly, Kevin can sleep through nearly anything (so long as I reassure him I’m fine). :P
At 9 AM (Saturday), we went to “part deux” of the hospital childbirth education class, which actually wasn’t so bad that time around. I was very glad that the nurse was very adamant on explaining how breastfeeding is the only way to go (“unless you’re shooting up heroine or doing cocaine, of course”) and that breastmilk should be the norm. (I always have thought it’s weird that people say it’s “best” and put it up on a pedestal- no, breastmilk is just what we should be automatically feeding our children, and formula should be considered the last-ditch artifical option, like it is.) Of course, we practised some relaxed breathing, though I couldn’t really get into the relaxation because Kevin kept teasing/interrupting me and saying: “Don’t fall asleep!” (Grrr, seriously?) I love him though. :) At any rate, after the breathing exercises, we were supposed to get down on our backs and “practise” coached pushing. Uhm, no. Don’t get me wrong- if that’s how I want to give birth, I will, but I definitely don’t want someone counting to ten and it just makes sense that upright positions are the best for pushing and giving birth (not lying on your back like a disabled turtle, closing off your pelvis and making it difficult for Baby to squeeze through)! So, I just rested for a few minutes while they all practised putting their chins to their chests and counted to ten three times. Haha.
After receiving our certificate of graduation from the class (and an evaluation form that I readily filled out!), we went to lunch (of course, it was around 2-230 at that point, and both of us were starving)! I got this “feeling” that Kevin’s parents might be at the same place that we were going, and sure enough, there they were! So we chatted with them for awhile.
Later that night, we had to go to a bridal shower for one of Kevin’s many cousins- we got her fiance and her a 3-piece cookie sheet set and a 6-piece Pyrex storage set, and boy, did I have fun trying to find something to wrap it with. :P We can’t come to the actual wedding (which is on 17 September), so despite being literally exhausted, we both decided it would be the good thing to suck it up and go to the shower. Happily, it was a BBQ co-ed luau (much like our baby shower), and it was a lot of fun. Of course, I got a lot of people ooo-ing and ahhh-ing over my belly, and a few relatives were taking "birthday bets." My in-laws hoped he would come on 26 August (my father-in-law’s birthday), and a couple cousins said the 2, 16, and 19 September. (Sidenote: Looks like the folks who guessed I would go early, including my doctor, were totally off, eh?) I told the cousins that I sure hoped I wouldn’t go to the 19th since that would be 2 weeks “overdue”! :P At any rate, we headed home around 945 PM, totally depleted.
By 38 weeks, the exhaustion had really started to get to me. Every single night, I would wake up with acid reflux, itching all over, and HOT. I'd walk around the house, have a drink, eat a graham cracker (settles the acid?), and then try to lie down again. And this is AFTER I take 25 mg of diphenhydramine (the stuff that makes you sleepy in Benedryl)...
Saw the doctor again. He did a cervical check, which was a tad more painful than the previous time- my OB seemed a little more nervous than usual, but I suspected it was because he had a surgery to go to in less than an hour. I had gained another pound in a week (UGH!), which depending on my pre-pregnancy weight (I’m not really sure where I started) brought me up to a total weight gain of 22-32 pounds. SAD! After his check, he told us he could feel the baby’s head, that I was still about 1/2 cm dilated, about 65-70% effaced. He predicted that the baby could come during week 39. (Sidenote: Sadly, this prediction was off, once again.)
Afterwards, we had dinner. When we got up from the table, I suddenly got these horrific sharp, shooting pains (kind of like charlie horse cramps) in the tendons between my upper-inner thighs and pubic area (like the bikini line area). I could barely make it to the car, and was breathing so hard to calm the pain that my husband was sort of in shock. He thought I was having contractions. No, Hunny, I’m just a wuss, I suppose. :P
Because I thought we would be having the baby the following week, I got working on packing a hospital bag:
-A little outfit packed for Lucas (both NB and 0-3 sizes, socks, hat, and blanket).
-5 pairs of Depends underwear (yeah, I said it).
-My mini-toiletries bag.
-3 copies of our birth plan.
-1 copy of hospital pre-registration paperwork.
I don't really remember much more about this week, because I was in THE worst funk ever. Even my doula started pissing me off, and she's one of the nicest and most sympathetic women. All I wanted was my husband with me, day and night, so I started feeling so lonely while he was at work. (I wonder if this is some sort of animal instinct?) This is the week that the pain became commonplace, exhaustion was typical, and I began feeling like I was pushing everyone away. Oh, and I started wanting to devour the kitchen. Not really hungry, but like OMG I JUST WANT TO EAT. Sigh...
I'll be updating with weeks 39 and 40 soon, hopefully.