I am 39 weeks pregnant now. And I keep asking the little human inside my womb to just hurry the heck up and get here. Please. Because mumma is seriously running out of patience now.
I have been walking on the treadmill every couple of days and if I don’t get the chance to treadmill it, then I have been walking around a shopping centre (because, duh…air conditioning… and its been freaking hot). Or I have been walking around our house and on our back deck, which overlooks a bunch of lazy arse kangaroo’s which sit and laugh at my plight. I think they feel that it is especially funny since I can’t actually sit myself. Well, I can, but its bloody uncomfortable. Standing is also uncomfortable. So I am perpetually up and down like a yoyo. A heavily pregnant Braxton Hicks experiencing 5 foot 3 inch yoyo.
I am just trying to do what I can to get this little human to slip and slide right on outta me.
I had my 39 week appointment on Monday gone, at which the doctor proceeded to offer me a stretch and sweep (I declined), a vaginal exam (also declined), before she tried to discuss breaking my waters or booking me in for a c-section. I declined discussing those too. I just want to give my body time damn it. I am not even quite due yet!
I had described the feeling of my little lady burrowing right down into the business end of my body in the afternoon and evenings, but I had also advised that she had been popping back up overnight. And to that, the doctor advised that it probably means that we don’t really mesh. She actually mentioned that maybe my babies will NEVER mesh with my body or allow me to birth them naturally. Well. Gee. Thanks.
Maybe just give me a chance to see???
And then she mentioned (in a reasonably lovely way I guess) that the hospital will not let me get to 42 weeks because I had previously had a c-section and that it would place too much pressure on my internal scarring. This means that I am too much of a risk to let nature just take its course.
Which is freaking disappointing of course.
She then booked me in to go back in for another doctors appointment at the hospital when I am 40 weeks + 2 days (the Friday before freaking Christmas) because she wants me to have monitoring, and because she said that we must have that discussion that I was trying to avoid the previous week.
Now, I desperately do not want to have that discussion still. I still really want things to proceed naturally. I want my body to work with my baby and do what it needs to do instinctively when the time is right. I would not obviously continue if there was any risk of putting my baby in danger, but I just really want to try if I can.
As a side note, people have passed comments before that I may be being a bit selfish in wanting to give birth in the way that I am hoping to, and every single person has mentioned that it doesn’t matter how she is born, as long as she is healthy and happy. And whilst that is true, those people aren’t me.
Maybe I am being selfish, but I want to experience everything labour has to offer. I want to try it. I want to experience the power and the strength that I know my body has inside it. And you know what? It may be the most horrific experience of my life and I may look back and laugh my ass off at wanting to experience it at all. But I would like to make that judgement for myself.
I am 40 weeks now, and I have a bit more attitude than I did last week. A heck of a lot more actually. Get. Out. Of. My. Body. Now. Captain Becky.
With my last pregnancy, I tried a million different things to try and get my little man to fall out of my hoo-ha (you can read all about that here), but as nothing actually worked I am trying not to travel down the same path here. As I said before, I want to just trust that my body will do what it is supposed to do, and that the Captain will arrive when she is ready, but it’s getting bloody hard to not be completely obsessed over it.
I feel so full of human and almost like I cannot possibly carry her for much longer. But “much longer” is exactly how much it seems like she wants me to hold her for lol. I am so heavy. And I am feeling a burrowing, and a weird crampy like feeling behind my pelvic bone which I never felt with my son. I do feel like things will happen soon enough. But not soon enough for me to feel completely and utterly over it in the meantime.
I wake up every morning wondering if today is actually going to be the day. And then I go to bed every night wondering if it will be tomorrow instead. Every time I go to the toilet I check for a tinge of pink on the toilet paper, for evidence that it is about to start. And annoyingly I am disappointed every time.
But then, I have also been wondering the last couple of days if subconsciously I have been holding The Captain in and not allowing myself to go into labour. I say this because of all the rotten things that have been happening around me lately – am I mentally trying to protect her in some way without realising?
I hadn’t actually thought of this until yesterday but it has made me question everything. And then cry in the shower for a bit. Is that why she hasn’t come out of my body yet? I mean, everyone does keep saying that second babies should come early, but she certainly hasn’t. So is it actually ME sending her signals that are stopping her? I just don’t know!
I really hope more than anything that it is not the case, I mean I do definitely want to protect her in this life more than anything else, but I would desperately rather do that with her in my arms than inside my body. And quite frankly I am uncomfortable as heck now. I mean, I know that I will miss the feeling of being pregnant and that special connection as soon as she is out, but right now I would really like to look her in the eyes and kiss her little face.
And take a full breath. Yep, that would be freaking nice too…
So without further ado, I really hope that this is the last instalment of me and my pregnant life. For this pregnancy anyway.
And I hope that the next time I write, it will be about my labour and how amazing (or yes, horrific) it was. And about how she fell right out of my hoo-ha into my husband and/or midwives waiting hands. Because that is all that I am hoping for right now.
That is my wish…. Get out of my body please Captain. Like, now please. Let me get my wish this time… x
Did you get the labour you hoped for? And would you like to share the story of your labour and birthing experience with our mummalifelovebaby readers? If so, send me your details confidentially via the feedback form below, as I would love to share your story next! xxx
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