Hopefully Olivia is going to cooperate and get here on time or early (which is doubtful since I am told most babies are late.) There's no such thing as comfort anymore, especially when your feet decide to absorb 5 gallons of water. Well, foot. Nothing quite as sexy as having one semi-normal foot and one elephantitis victim. All I need to complete the ensemble is a hump and a bell tower.
This past week at the doctor's office I was going over my list of complaints, yet again. The nurse, always concerned, jots everything down and ever-so-helpfully notes that I haven't had a pelvic exam in several weeks. Ok, no problem. No wait there is a problem. I'm wearing support hose. Scott calls them "armor plating", and sometimes I think he might have a point. Shit.
Scott sits in the chair in the exam room giggling at me trying to get my pants off, then the socks, then the hosery. Ok, note to you pregnant ladies... always make sure the pantyhose have cleared the ankles before moving to smack the smartass husband. Your dignity and your buttocks will thank you.
Scott:"Is this going to be gross? Are they going to use tools of some sort?"
Me:" I don't know, last time I got fisted and that was about it."
Ha! I was between him and the door. He wasn't going anywhere.
The doctor comes in and has the gall to ask me why I'm supposed to get a pelvic exam today.
Me: "The nurse said since I am having so many contractions that I should have a pelvic done."
Dr:"That makes sense." Mind you this person has a degree in medicine. But, she's been the nicest doctor we've dealt with so far. Gives lots of useful advice and really was concerned with my swelling. "No adding salt to your diet, no cooking with salt, and hydrate, hydrate, hydrate."
Me: "I don't think I can drink anymore water. I drink a gallon a day."
Dr: "I know, but drink more anyway!" (smile)
In went the hand, FOOMP, elbow out, and YANK. Scott swore he could hear something ratchetting in there. He said she had the same expression as a mechanic trying to find a bolt he dropped in an engine compartment. So, after lots of digging around up there, we find out that I am 1.5 cm dialated. "Feel that!??" she said in the same tone those infomercial chicks use when they're selling, I don't know, dessert topping or something, "That's me tapping your baby on the head and making her bob up and down."
Me: (eyes begin to water) "Yup...I feel it" *remember to breathe*
Scott: *gagging noise*
After the exam I was attempting to put my clothes back on and watching the color come back to Scott's face, silently cursing since we have more than 8cm to go.
I keep getting asked if I passed this so-called 'mucus plug' yet (is it like the Goo you can get at the grocery store candy machines?) According to one book, it's this clear blobby bunch of goo, and another book says it may be tinged pink ect... Apparently this 'mucus plug' has the ability to shape-shift and disguise itself into just about anything. I have NO idea if I lost mine, or where it would go for that matter. There is alot going on down there and it all tends to look the same after a while.
Ok, hang on a minute... Scott just passed out reading this over my shoulder. Men...
Olivia's room is "the" room to be in according to the cats. Everytime I'm in there, all 5 of them have to come in. Looks kind of like a fuzzy (Scott: smelly) shotgun. They sit in the chair, crib, bookshelf, changing table-- you name it, they have decided to try it out. Getting all 5 out of the room without playing 'come here you freaking cat you are not going to yak in this room no don't you dare jump in that AAAAGGG!!!' is another story.
Family starts to arrive this week, we still have NO idea where they are all staying. Though I do feel a bit odd that I'm going to have people hanging around just 'waiting' for things to happen. Kinda makes me feel like the rich old aunt everyone keeps waiting on to drop dead. My last day of work is wednesday and Olivia is supposidly due on friday. I do have another doctor's appointment again on Wednesday, maybe we will find out if I have dilated even more.
All Scott and I know is that we are set with 3 weeks worth of cat food and litter. At least a small part of our lives is taken care of. Along with cleaning out Oscar to make him a bit more decent before all of this company arrives. Do they still call it company? Or are you allowed to make them do tasks around the house? All of these baby books say "mom must get pampered, have the company help out." As long as Pat has a connection to eBay I know Olivia's set for clothes, but as to the rest, does this really happen? (Scott is going to have to change out potty boxes whether he likes it or not this time around... sorry sweetie.)