They don't call 37 weeks "full term" anymore. Now they call it "near term" and full term starts at week 39. However, we have passed the "premature" stage and that is fantastic! My doctor called the hospital today to schedule my induction for December 22nd (which will mark 39 weeks and 1 day) and since I'm writing this at 830 at night, that means we have exactly 2 weeks to go! I have to admit I am afraid to go two more weeks because at my appointment today the doctor felt my belly and estimated baby at currently being high 7 to low 8 pounds already. I don't understand how I make such huge babies. I seriously am still losing weight half of the time they weigh me. I've been eating a diabetes diet so...I guess she's just healthy right! Jack's birth was so difficult with him being over 9 pounds and I really don't want to end up in a C-section for a stuck 10 pound baby- so I am hoping mother nature helps me out and I deliver earlier. I can't imagine going to 40 weeks especially when she's already this big. I'm extra thankful for that 39 week induction option. I am running out of room as evidenced by the picture I took earlier this week:
The good news is I did accomplish a lot this week. I threw a bridal shower for my soon to be sister-in-law, finished Christmas shopping and wrapping, finished all preparations for Kevin's graduation (this friday!), and am almost all finished with my thank you notes. My house is not finished yet, but I do have a "nesting list" typed out that Kevin and I can work on this upcoming week as he will be finished with all classes. Whew what a crazy time with so many different things going on. Between finals, graduation, job offers/searching, Christmas, and being almost due with a baby- the anxiety has been high. I'm more hungry, more worn out, and more impatient waiting for labor to start- even though it would be on the early side right now (but I mean she's already 8 pounds and I'm dying!) At least I get these puppy snuggles at night- he always wants to snuggle my bump right on the skin- tries to nudge my shirt up and everything. I sure hope he likes her this much when she's born.
Plus, my best friend's grandma made me this AMAZING rainbow blanket and it looks huge and comfy (the picture is of my friend's hubby holding it up for me.) I've never even met her grandma and the kindness is incredible. I want to take it to the hospital for me to snuggle! All these little things really brighten my week!
I had one day this week where I felt a lot of reduced movement. I was trying to convince myself it's because she's dropped, but it was really scary. I continue to do kick counts at home to try and keep my mind at ease. Sometimes I play music for her and she seems to like that (she likes Adele like her brother.) Luckily the next day her NST showed her as being healthy- but I wish it felt like a bigger relief.
I have to be honest and say that my anxiety is definitely getting worse instead of better. I've been blessed with a support group where I can actually discuss my fears and they are so well understood. Most places it seems inappropriate to talk about the fear of "late fetal demise." But it's something you have to talk about to get through. Now that we are "near term" it is very difficult to feel like my baby is safer outside than inside. The risks of her coming a bit early seem so insignificant compared to what I feel like is the risk of something going wrong in her last two weeks in the womb. A live birth still seems too good to be true most of the time. It brings me comfort to know she is ours forever no matter what happens. I know that her life has already started- she can hear us and think and remember things- she is already her own little person. It just feels like those first few early weeks all over again where each day I am just in agony and worrying if everything is still ok. This is the most intense and difficult thing I have ever done. PTSD rears its ugly head again.
The worst has been at night. I have terrible nightmares and toss and turn constantly. I snap awake out of a dead sleep wondering, "when was the last time I felt her move?" If I wake up to use the bathroom (which is often) I can't go back to sleep until I feel a kick. Sometimes it can take an hour, and Kevin wakes up to me sitting up in bed sobbing that the baby isn't moving. I know a lot of this comes from the fact that this is my 8th pregnancy and I want to hold a second baby in my arms. I think a lot of it comes from my life experience also. I grew up watching a family member (with the same blood work-up as me) struggle in this area. She had multiple miscarriages. Over the course of a decade she also had two stillborn daughters that were full term. My understanding is her last daughter passed away the night before her scheduled c-section with no warning and I don't believe they ever found a "cause." I think my problem is that I see myself so much in her that I'm waiting for the same thing to happen to me. I wish they would take the baby early- but there is no medical indication to do so. That is what makes my anxiety so crippling- I struggle to find peace. I keep praying for faith and peace, and sometimes I ask for that tender mercy of allowing me to go into labor early on my own, to bring us relief from this painful worry. If something happened and she could have come early and been ok I would never forgive myself. But I'm not really in charge of that.
I tried talking to my doctor about it today- she told me that my perspective is skewed (obviously I've lost six of my own and watched so many others lose babies, in my family and support groups.) It's just all too real to me. The only thing she offered was to start me on an anti-depressant, but said it likely would take longer to start working than I have left in my pregnancy anyway. I declined it. She checked my cervix and said I'm still at a 1, but did the painful little trick of "stirring things up in there." She said it wasn't exactly stripping my membranes, but kind of. I bled from it most of the afternoon and had more contractions. I hope they continue instead of slowing down.
After talking to the doctor and feeling so discouraged that my fear isn't understood or validated, I did what any grown woman would do and called my mom to cry to her on the phone. My mom, being the medical professional RN that she is, said I needed to go to a movie with a reclining chair and give my mind a break for two hours. She sent us some money over Venmo and the three of us went on one last date to Moana. I think it really was what I needed. Mom always knows. Plus, she understood the fear and the risk- she's seen everything that I have seen happen in our family. I think I'm going to ask Kevin for a blessing tonight. At this point, it's once again trusting God and putting our little girl in His hands to take care of. I'm trying to be brave and strong. I'm so fortunate to have wonderful supportive people all around me. I pray she comes very soon. If not, I hope I can find the strength to endure two more weeks.
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| Reclining seats! Please ignore how exhausted and miserable I look here... |
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