Our c-section date was pushed back to 39 weeks because there wasn't a good medical reason to go at 37. Never mind the almost non stop contractions (which are nonproductive by the way), and the fact that at 36 weeks this girl's weight was estimated to already be 7 1/2 pounds!! No no no, can't be done! I get to do this for two more weeks!
Ladies and gentlemen, I cried like a baby. Between REALLY wanting to meet her and REALLY REALLY wanting this torturous pregnancy to end.... I. Broke. Down.
It just wasn't fair, I said to myself! My husband tried to console me that at least we knew she would be big and healthy.
Tears streaming down my face, nose clogged, I yell back "Then YOU DO IT!"
Rationality had checked out for the day.
I have had so many episodes of "false labor", I feel like I should have birthed this child half a dozen times.
I should be HAPPY. Evan was early, and had all his issues, and we have none of that this time around.
But I keep hoping I just go ahead and go into real labor, because I am so over this pregnancy and the false labor!
I feel like a gambler at a craps table, rolling the dice and yelling "Momma needs to have this baby!" And always losing.
And my poor little fella... Evan is just so awesome. I feel tons of guilt for being unable to do all the things he really needs me to do, like get down and play with him. Or take him to the park.
He's been a champ, though. We've gotten him to go to sleep on his own at night. He's working on drinking from an AWESOME sippy cup that actually works for him.... He's walking, but is still so cautious, and wants support.
HE LOVES BEING OUTSIDE!
He's doing good, I just wish I could work more with him.
That being said, even though I may whine and cry about being pregnant for two more weeks whilst enduring all the joys of false labor that feels like real labor.... I'm content as long as baby girl comes when she's supposed to.
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