Due Date!

Hey everyone! It's Cara this time. Our due date appointment with the doctor has just come and gone with no change from previous reports. I don't want to be guilty of providing too much information on this blog, so let's just say that some important parts of my body are behaving as if I were 30 weeks pregnant, rather than 40. I couldn't hide my frustration at the O.B. appointment today; the tears came, and I'm sure I'm not done with my crying for the day.

There are a couple of main reasons why I'm feeling this way:

1) We're starting to discuss some medical interventions now that I was hoping to avoid. Because of the evidence that there are some heightened risks associated with carrying a pregnancy past 42 weeks, the doc is looking towards what we can do to ensure that the baby comes before then. I have an appointment next Tuesday for one of those early medical interventions, then another appointment on Thursday (which would include an ultrasound) and then we'd have to talk about actually inducing labor the week after that. My doc is actually going to call me later today to tell me what date we'll be scheduled for the labor induction at the hospital. For most women, labor induction--using a drug called Pitocin--brings with it contractions that are significantly closer together and stronger than natural contractions, which makes it very challenging indeed to proceed through labor without an epidural.

2) I'm really not a comfortable person these days. Each day that passes seems to bring with it longer periods of sleeplessness, numb hands, swollen feet, an achy abdomen, a sore tailbone, shortness of breath, etc. Now, don't get me wrong--if you were to spend the day hanging out with Stella, Mona, and I, you wouldn't see me sitting around feeling miserable. I'm still going to the bookstore, reading, keeping the house clean, watching silly T.V. shows and all of that. My life isn't really disrupted by the discomfort, and I'm in a good mood most of the time, I'd say. But, I'd be lying if I said that it wasn't wearing me down a bit, causing me to be more eager for this to be over with every day that passes.

The main point to keep in mind, of course, is that the baby still appears to be healthy and thriving and all that. And I, as a whole, am still doing well physically at the end of what has been a smooth pregnancy. And I know that making sure that those facts remain true is really at the heart of all this. That's what matters the most.

When I really get down to it, though, the hardest part is the incredibly profound desire that I have to meet this person who's going to change my life forever. I want to know if he/she is okay, rather than depending upon heartbeat monitors and measurements to hypothesize it. This feeling of needing to look into the baby's eyes, the eyes of someone whom I've been connected to for nine months, is among the 2 or 3 strongest emotions I've ever felt in my life. It's so hard to push it back yet another day.