Still Waiting...

But I have another Ultrasound appointment today at the hospital. If my amniotic fluid is low, my OB says they'll admit and induce me. But, so far, I've hovered just above the danger zone. Apparently, an Amniotic Fluid Index of 5 cm. or less is cause for inducing once a baby is full-term, or close. My levels ranged from 5.7 to 7 over the past week. So I'm guessing I'll be back here with an update later today.

All Quiet on the Baby Front

Four days post-due date and...nothing, nada, no indication whatsoever that our baby has made any progress toward the exit. I actually dreamed I was in labor last night and woke up in a panic. But it was only a dream (which was a bit of a relief really, since it woke me at 5:30 a.m.). I got up and walked around and stayed up for a little while, just to be sure. When I drifted back to sleep, I dreamt that my husband and I went to the hospital and were told to sit in the waiting room until the labor progressed. As we waited and waited and waited, all the other couples that had been in the childbirth classes with us started stopping by with their new babies. Then I woke up...and nothing. I got up. I showered. I had coffee and a banana. I got dressed. Had our son not given me a good kick while I was putting on my shirt, I nearly could have forgotten I was 9+ months pregnant.
My mom is heading over to meet me for a movie and a trip to Whole Foods to pick up Thanksgiving sides. My husband and I are now hosting dinner for my mom, who decided to stay here rather than fly to Florida to be with her husband (assuming we don't spend the day at the hospital). If we're lucky, maybe we'll have another guest as well.

On the Brink of Parenthood

Parenting Lesson #1:
Patience.
You can prepare--and plead--all you want, but your baby will make his entrance when he damn well pleases.

I'm already three days beyond my due date and counting. And our son doesn't seem to be in any rush to join us out here. (And who can blame him? He's got a nice little set-up in there: a cozy, climate-controlled home with everything he needs delivered right to his door). The last time I went to the OB, she told me I was barely one centimenter dilated--still. And he still hasn't "dropped" yet. I thought maybe he was getting into launch mode when I felt him shifting around last night (and after hearing warnings of breech babies, I quietly pleaded with him: Just keep your head down, son!). But judging from the latest series of kicks and hiccups, he's just moved from my right side to my left side--definitely better than being breech, but still no closer to the door.
Ironically, I was so nervous that our son would arrive early that after I went out on maternity leave, I spent most of my days, and my paycheck, cramming in classes and stocking up on dozens of essentials I was sure we needed before he was born. I scheduled a long overdue teeth cleaning. I signed up for another package of prenatal yoga classes. I took a 2-hour CPR and child safety class with my husband and we completed the last of five 3-hour classes on childbirth. I bought and washed the baby clothes. I got the breast pump, nursing bras, and $100 worth of assorted paraphernalia I'm not even sure I'll ever use.
We've gotten everything we needed off our registry, and more. We have a swing, two vibrating chairs, 2 playpens, a pile of toys, and drawers full of clothes that should outfit him for the next year or more. I've bought birthday gifts for friends through November, just in case I forgot after he arrives. I've sent out nearly 30 thank you notes. I've bought diapers, wipes, hand sanitizer, even baby nail clippers and a thermometer. I've bought things I'd never even heard of until weeks ago (a nasal aspirator? breast shields??). I've read "What to Expect When You're Expecting" and "The Whole Pregnancy Handbook" and dozens of articles online about motherhood. I've visited a daycare center, picked a pediatrician, and planned our first vacation. I've checked off just about every item on the four pages of to-do lists I compiled on the day my maternity leave began.
And then the due date came. And went. And now I'm left with nothing but time, and a nagging sense of anticipation. Don't get me wrong. I'm thankful to have a few extra mornings to sleep in, a few more dinners with my husband, and the luxury of a few more afternoons free of any obligations or social commitments. I know I'll be looking back wistfully on these days soon enough, and probably wondering what the heck I did with all that unrestricted free time. Initially, I had some grand plans. I'd start that novel I'd been talking about. I'd buy a new battery for my camera and walk around the city documenting the changing seasons. I'd cook three-course dinners for my husband and me that didn't involve a microwave or reheated take-out.
But I ended up spending most of my days at the OB's office, in the hospital (where I've had to have a series of ultrasounds after my amniotic fluid dipped so low they nearly induced me), or on the living room couch. And now that I'm post-due, the fear of having a, um, "water" break or a sudden onset of contractions in public and far from home (a subjective term that now means anything beyond a 10-minute walk or a few subway stops) has curbed my natural tendency to fill any free time with plans and obligations. In the back of my mind, I'm always wondering: Will it be tonight? Tomorrow? Two weeks from now?
After carrying the litte guy around for more than 9 months, I'm getting eager to meet him. Of course, with my track record, the one day that we're hoping he doesn't arrive will probably be the day he does: Thanksgiving. But I'll be thankful whenever he arrives, as long as he's healthy. (Though preferably not in the middle of dinner).