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To the person who found my website by Googling “im 7 months pregnant if i poke my belly will my baby kick back” – YES, IT WILL. But be warned, although it is very cute right now, eventually those tiny baby feet will end up in your rib cage and all the poking in the world won’t let you sleep at night.

Mom and I went to the mall and out to lunch today, hoping that walking and climbing stairs might be what I needed to send me into labor. She kept asking me how I felt and I got really tired of saying “Great!” I don’t want to feel great. I want to feel contractions, lots and lots of contractions. Painful, hurty, vomit-inducing contractions. I mean, no, obviously I don’t want to lie on the floor throwing up for hours but until I start feeling something I can’t go to the hospital for The Drugs.

I tried raking the garden, but only lasted ten minutes before I felt like passing out. I am not in good shape y’all, and the beautiful, sunny weather made me overheat. Now I’m sitting on the couch feeling really crampy and uncomfortable. Which is…good? Maybe? This feeling isn’t like the Braxton-Hicks contractions, where my stomach got really tight. It’s more like period cramps or intestinal problems that send me running to the bathroom only to discover I don’t need to go. I’m pretty sure I haven’t lost my mucous plug and I know my water is still intact, which are the two things I KNOW will get me a room at the hospital, so unless Baby E kicks me hard enough to pop something, I’m not having the baby tonight. April Fool’s is looking more and more likely!

…I am dilated to 1 cm! A whole week of walking and I’ve only got 1 cm to show for it. Actually, the midwife said the baby had moved down and she could feel his head (I did not enjoy that part) so I am making progress. She put me on the birthing center’s calendar for an induction on April 8th – but doesn’t think I’m going to make it that long. Mom thinks I’ll have him sooner too, so I’m going with that theory. E says I’m failing at my baby-making job if I’m pregnant after April 1st and since HIS HAPPINESS is really all I think about I’m going to try not to disappoint. Anyone with a guess between today and the 8th still has a good chance in the birthing pool.

In honor of my son’s impending birth, I got a pedicure today:
footI think this color is called “Caribbean Blue”. I was hoping for “OMG GET THIS BABY OUT OF ME” by OPI hasn’t done a pregnancy-inspired line yet.

I’m starting to think I might have a very punctual baby. It really wouldn’t surprise me, since both E and I are generally the very on-time type. I just didn’t know it was hereditary.

My mom got here on the Amtrak Saturday to help me with Baby E. Since all he’s really doing right now is kicking me in the bladder and giving me more stretchmarks, she’s taken to cooking and cleaning. I’m not going to complain. We went to the Commissary yesterday and bought ingredients for a week’s worth of food – the warm, homemade, delicious kind that I haven’t bothered with in a month ever. E is going to get totally, completely spoiled, and right when I had him trained to fetch McDonald’s on command too. Yesterday afternoon Mom and I threatened to go to Ikea ourselves, so E agreed it was probably better to come along and make sure we didn’t buy the entire Spring catalog. I FINALLY got an overhead light for the nursery and a new shade for the existing lamp, so my baby doesn’t grow up thinking we live in a cave. E needs to finish tacking down the cords, but we’ve got a while until baby-proofing becomes necessary instead of just preparatory. Although I’m sure my baby will be very smart, I doubt he’ll be sticking anything in light sockets for a few months.

I have a doctor’s appointment today at 2:30 with another super-fun pelvic exam. I have very little hope that things have changed despite drinking a gallon of raspberry-leaf tea – which doesn’t taste like raspberries or leaves or anything besides hot water and sticks. Delicious. Update this afternoon.

I bought a gallon of milk today with a sell-by date of April 9th, and the only thing I can think about right now is I will have a baby before this milk goes bad.

We have our first loser! Sorry Meghan. Since the latest my doc will let me go is a week past my due date, I’ll let AGreenEyeDevil amend her guess to April 7th if she’d like. Originally I thought I could totally throw this contest so I came out the winner but at this point I would rather be un-pregnant than right.

Meghanstrader – March 25th NO BABY
Lalaland13 – March 27th
Mary – March 28th
MapleJam – March 29th
Me – March 30th
Sarrible – March 31st
Stacyinbean – April 1st
Other Erin – April 2nd
SarahMC – April 2nd
H_a_l – April 4th
Erin (I don’t have a fake name) – April 5th
Katie Gibson-Stofflet – April 6th
AGreenEyeDevil – April 10th

Well, I made it back from New York with zero babies born on a train or in Sara’s apartment. Spending time with someone other than my dog and my couch was fun and I’m glad Baby E stayed put long enough for this trip but DEAR GOD am I done with pregnancy. I don’t know how I had imagined getting around the city (flying carpet? teleportation? seriously, science, get on that) but none of the available modes of transportation were very comfortable. My pelvis barely fit through the subway turnstile and even my athletic sneakers gave me blisters. I have no idea how women who actually live in New York handle being pregnant – but based on the number of strollers I saw they must do it somehow.

Now that I’m home and on my couch even walking to the fridge for a Diet Coke seems waaaay too far. I am irrationally angry that E has duty and won’t be home until tomorrow. How dare he provide for our family that way! Doesn’t he know I am having a Diet Coke emergency? Thank God I live in Suburbia, the land of cars and full sized grocery stores and houses instead of walk-up apartments. I used to say I lived “walking distance” from my itty bitty city’s downtown (post office, YMCA, two restaurants, one bar) but as of right now I barely live walking distance from my own bathroom. “Walking distance” has been stricken from my vocabulary until I no longer waddle.

BUT I got my Pad Thai, this book signed by Heather Armstrong, a day with Sara and I even got to meet the lovely h_a_l, the first internet friend I’ve ever met in real life. She brought Baby E an awesome onesie that I can’t wait to horrify my family with. Thanks Holly! I’ll post a picture as soon as the baby decides he’s tired of being naked and wants to join the rest of us out here in the world. This is how desperate I am to have a baby – I’m ready to bribe him with fashion. Since he’s genetically half E, maybe I should try holding a beer between my knees instead.

No baby today. No baby tomorrow. Probably no baby this week. All these stupid Braxton-Hicks contractions have done absolutely nothing to get labor started. I’m not dilated or effaced. My doctor said if there’s still no progress at my next appointment we can start talking about induction. As tired as I am of being pregnant, I really really really don’t want to resort to medical intervention before I’m even in labor. The rates of c-section go up dramatically with induction and I’ve heard Pitocin induced contractions hurt even more than regular contractions. The longest my OB will let me go is a week past my due date so I’ve got until the 7th to find a self-induction method that actually works.

The good news is tomorrow I am going to NYC to see Heather Armstrong a.k.a. Dooce, visit my awesome friend Sara and check out the children’s floor at The Strand. E thinks I am totally, completely insane and is convinced I’m going to go into labor on the Amtrak. I figure it’s only a 2 1/2 hour train ride so even if my water breaks I’ve got plenty of time to make it to my hospital. This is probably my last chance to go anywhere by myself for the next 5 10 18+ years so I am taking advantage of having a bebeh that is still in his easiest and most portable state. A car seat is just not as easy to carry as a belly.

I called Safe Kids a couple weeks ago to set up a car seat inspection. My appointment was Friday. In their attempt to provide a truly safe way to transport a baby in a car, manufacturers have made it completely impossible to put in a car seat without a dual masters degree in child safety and engineering, so our local police/hospital set up free safety checks at various official locations every month. E had actually installed the car seat a few days ago but apparently did it ENTIRELY WRONG. The look of horror on the Safe Kids volunteer’s face when they looked at it would have been more appropriate if I’d said “We were just gonna strap the kid to the roof rack with this here rope”.

The whole thing should have been easy – my car seat has a LATCH system and my Jeep is LATCH equipped. Don’t ask me what that means, I have no idea. But because the middle rear seat doesn’t have LATCH the volunteer spent 20 minutes on the phone with my car seat company just to make sure it was compatible. After she got the ok, it took two seconds to run the lap belt through the appropriate holes and then ten minutes of yanking and pushing to get it as tight as possible. I should have volunteered to do it myself – it might have been just what I needed to get labor started. It ended up being a lot less complicated than my War & Peace sized owner’s manual tried to make it sound. I’m pretty sure my regular old BA in Communications would have been enough education, but why argue when someone else wants to do the work for you?

As much as I mock, I have to say it is really reassuring to have someone tell me exactly how it should be done. Now I know the car seat is safe and I don’t have to worry about the whole thing flying through the windshield on the long, scary less than one mile drive home from the hospital. I’ve put up with way too much in the last 9 months to have something as stupid as a car seat ruin this for me.

I was trying to write a post of all the things I will miss about being pregnant. But how can I miss it when it WON’T GO AWAY??

I love email! It's like talking to other grown ups without having to worry if the baby is screaming! Contact me: bebehblog@gmail.com
March 2009
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