First, let’s discuss some missing details and catch up things because I’ve been absent from this blog, for the most part, for the last nine months.
I’m due tomorrow.
It’s a girl.
She is still not 100% named.
I have been calling her Mini B because she is baby #2 after Little A and she is showing signs of my bitchiness. Mini Bitch. Mini B. Get it?
I guess that’ll help fill in the gaps. On to business.
With Little A, he came two weeks early as a surprise after I attempted to do a pull up. Though the labor process was not easy, it was pretty much as easy as it gets. Water breaks, go to hospital, get drugs, push out baby stupid fast. All done. Less than 24 hours start to finish, nothing to wring hands about or get all freaked out about. I even packed a Go Bag in less than ten minutes.
With Mini B, it’s a whole different ball game. I’m closing in on 40 weeks so I’m more pregnant than I ever have been ever. I have zero signs of labor, my back aches and waddle are nearing epic levels. The Go Bag has been packed in the closet for awhile now. The crib is assembled this time. This is all new territory for me.
Out of sheer curiosity, I opted for a cervix check on Tuesday.
I was shocked to learn I was at 3cm, thinned out and Mini B’s head was being gently poked by a midwife. I was only at 1cm after my water broke in Round One.
So, umm, yikes?
For the past 48 hours, I’ve been obnoxiously paranoid about every twinge, movement, pressure, pain, feeling, bubble, punch, kick, booty pop and reaction I have. IS THIS IT? Ok, no. WAIT WHAT THE %^$@ WAS THAT? Oh, nothing. Gas. HOLD UP THE SHIT DOES THAT MEAN? Apparently nothing.
You know that scene in Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory where Gene Wilder takes them on the crazy boat ride and goes all demonic and creepy and no one know what’s happening? Yep, me. And that song has been stuck in my head. Because that’s not ominously doomful.
I seriously preferred the spontaneous onset of labor, not this waiting shit nonsense. JUST COME OUT ALREADY BECAUSE I’M FREAKING OUT, DUDE. I’m not sure I’m ready for you, but I am ready to be done, so. Come on out. Your spa vaca is over.
There’s no earthly way of knowing
Which direction we are going
There’s no knowing where we’re rowing
Or which way the river’s flowing