The baby has dropped.

I’m already 3 centimetres.

!

She stripped my membranes.

:l

If that doesn’t get labour started, we are to be at the hospital at 7:30 tomorrow morning. Waters will be broken, and if that doesn’t work, drips will be started.

:0

She told me that there are a lot of deliveries going on, so we may get a call postponing us going in. She also said that the stripped membranes usually start labour within 24 hours, and it often happens in the middle of the night. So…we could be going in today or tonight, and then they’ll have to take us.

Depending on how it all goes down, I will either update when we get back, or my dear friend Amanda will come on here and fill you in. I gave her the login deets to my site, to make sure you all know what’s going on if it takes us awhile to get back.

If you are immediate family, etc., you will hear by phone call long before it’s posted here. We’ll make sure you don’t hear via the Internet.

For the rest of you, we’ll get you up to speed shortly thereafter. Pray for us, think of us, and here’s to meeting Baby D!

I thought I would show you what my view is whenever I look down:

This picture cracks me up. The angle makes my toes look so far away that you would think I was seven feet tall. At least it gives you an idea of the sight I behold whenever I look down…except I generally can’t see my feet. The only reason you can see them is due to the angle I was holding the camera at. I didn’t want to include a bust shot along with the belly shot.

Yesterday was a great day. I took G into town to get some things while Matthew worked on the downstairs bathroom and Nathan napped. I had nothing but nice comments said to me by sweet people, both strangers and those I know. I had a few, “You’re all baby!” comments (once the baby’s out, they won’t be distracted by the enormous bump and they’ll see that I have a little extra in the butt and thighs department too…but it was nice to hear that). I had a few other people say, “Good for you!” when I told them I didn’t know if the baby was a boy or girl. I’m not sure why they were so in favour of not knowing, but their tone was positive, and I’ll take it.

Later we went in as a family to get some groceries and I had a sweet older lady comment on how HAPPY my boys are. She asked if I was hoping for a girl, and when I said I would be excited about either she replied, “Well, with cute happy boys like those two, another boy would be great!”

Makes my heart smile when others think my boys are as wonderful as I do.

I’ll leave you with another belly shot – thought I’d mix it up again and show you the front angle. The side view is pretty much the same as last week, except maybe a bit bigger.

(Removed)

Tomorrow will be busy with turkey dinner and such with my mama. I’ll be sure to update everyone after my doctor’s appointment on Tuesday (time to strip), unless something happens earlier…for those of you who are checking hourly (ha!).

For the record, I’m not complaining. I’ve only had it for a few days and I’ll only have it for a few more (Yippee!). When I was pregnant with Nathan, I was working in an office while Matthew balanced working from home and running Daddy Day Care for Graham. When I was 5 months along, the sciatica kicked in and I was ordered by my sweet doctor to quit working. Sitting in a chair for eight hours a day is the worst thing for it. I was excited to be home with Graham, but was pretty uncomfortable in my lower right back for the remaining four months. Compared to that, a week is a walk in the park.

Due to my inability to sit at the table, my Internet time has been mostly limited to the evenings after the kids are in bed. Such as right now. I’m sitting on the couch with the laptop on my, well, lap top. I watched Grey’s earlier, and I am awaiting The Office. I recorded CSI on the PVR for Honey and I to watch on the weekend. He’s furiously trying to get the downstairs bathroom done before my Mommy gets here on Sunday.

Speaking of Honey, he’s again the reason for the title of this post. When he comes up from the office at lunch, he’ll usually check the weather and the news on my laptop. Today, he was checking out YouTube.com. I have been meaning to check out the phenomenon that is You Tube, but I try to use my sparse Internet time wisely…checking blogs.

Whilst watching videos, he came across this banner ad:

He turns to me and says, “I want to press it.”

I told him I didn’t think it was a good idea. It probably didn’t work, and then we’d get some virus or something. Or somehow those evil spammers would reach out through the laptop screen and acquire our home email address.

He asked me to do a post and ask if any one has pressed the button. He has reminded me a few times this afternoon that he really wants to know what you all think.

Did you press the button? If so, what happened? If you haven’t pressed it, would you?

In the mind of a man, these are burning (pardon the pun) questions.

I just returned from my weekly check-up. The kids were with me for the first time because we went to Tumble Time first. Graham was pretty excited to hear the baby’s heartbeat (read: vibrating from head to toe). All is well with Baby D. I’m measuring well, and the heartbeat was a happy 144 beats per minute. To quote the doctor, I’m “all baby.” See for yourself:

(Removed)

Just know that there’s a reason I don’t post pictures that show my butt and thighs. I’m also getting tired of smiling for the camera, so I pulled out my kissy face.

I go see the doctor again next Tuesday, where she’ll sweep my membranes. She thinks that may very well start labour, as this is my third baby. If not, I’ll go into the hospital first thing Wednesday morning. She had done the same with Nathan, but I wasn’t really labouring the next day. I was at 3 cm, but wasn’t feeling the contractions. With both boys, labour didn’t really get difficult until 8-9 cm.

Don’t hate me because I labour easily.

My friend Heidi (who’s working in L&D on the Wednesday) was at Tumble Time this morning, and she’s hoping that the sweeping doesn’t work and I have to go in Wednesday. It would be tres cool to have her in there, but I will be more than happy to just get this baby out at any time. We’ll have to see what transpires next week.

Until then, I am going to continue nesting as much as I am able. I am halfway through building (it’s actually called assembling, according to Honey) the second of two dressers we bought for the boys from IKEA. The good thing is, I do most of it while sitting on the floor. The baby’s room is pretty much ready…it just needs a few finishing touches.

And then the piece de resistance – Baby D.

It has come to my attention that you are lacking in basic social skills, so I am attempting to help you understand how you are a complete idiot, in the hopes that you can become a better person. I’m nice like that.

First of all, I am a pregnant woman. Since you apparently weren’t paying attention in Biology 11 (or to life in general), pregnancy equals hormones. Many, many hormones. Pregnancy hormones are to PMS hormones what a hurricane is to a mild rain shower. And the hurricane days are the GOOD days. Don’t get me started on the bad days.

Secondly, pregnant women are generally exhausted. Sleep is elusive due to a big belly and loosening joints, and if you have other kids, it just gets compounded.

The sum of those two things equals an especially sensitive woman. Again, that’s on a good day. The bad days are beyond your comprehension.

When you decide to strike up a conversation with any pregnant woman, it would be wise to think about what is about to come spewing out of your mouth. Another lesson that you neglected to learn was, If You Can’t Say Anything Nice, Don’t Say Anything At All. You might want to write that one down and carry it around with you.

I’ll be kind enough to give you some examples of things not to say to a pregnant woman. The list is not an exhaustive one, but should help you on your path to recovery.

“You are going to have your hands full!” (Point to my two boys) “I mean, looks like you already do, but it will only get worse!”

Hmmm…I see that you have no children. So, of course, that would make you an expert in what life with three kids will be like.

“You really shouldn’t drink Diet Coke you know. It’s not good for you.”

Oh of course I know that. I should drop my occasional Diet Coke, because it’s so much worse than those CIGARS you are purchasing. Maybe I’ll start smoking cigars instead.

“So, you don’t know what you’re having? It would have been good to find out, because if you have a boy you’ll be pretty disappointed.”

You are so right. If I have a boy I will weep incessantly for months on end. Whatever will I do? I know. I’ll trade up for a girl.

I hope the examples above helped you. As you can probably tell from the tone of my letter, I’m a little hormonal. And today is a “good” day. Lucky for you it’s not a bad one.

Peace out.

She comes in, points at my belly, and says, “Wow! You’re really blossoming!”

I lay on the examining table and we listen to Baby D’s heartbeat – a nice happy 148. She feels the baby and tells me it’s nice and high, so still no worries of pre-term labour. She does the beloved Strep B swab, and then pulls out her measuring tape.

In a “normal” pregnancy, your uterus grows 1 cm a week, and that usually corresponds with the number of weeks you are. For example, 34 weeks = 34 cm.

Until last week, I was trucking along, growing one cm per week, which agreed with the number of weeks I was. She measures me, and I grew TWO cm. In ONE week.

She shows me this graph in my chart. I didn’t realize that they plot your growth on one of those curved charts similar to those used for babies. I’m plotting in the 90th percentile. For those that don’t know what that means, it means the baby is REALLY BIG.

She tells me that if I were to go to term, the baby would be at least 11 pounds. At least! ELEVEN POUNDS!!

She then tells me that she will twist any and all arms necessary to make sure we get in early. No kidding. I may have “child bearing” hips, but even they have their limits. My experience with Nathan’s birth was so much easier (as easy as childbirth can get) than the vacuum/forceps/almost C-Section experience I had with Graham. Here’s to another 2-hour labour with 2 pushes to deliver, ala Nathan.

All is well with both Baby and I, and she thought the trip to the cabin was a wonderful idea. As do I. Have a great weekend, everyone!

AM

Why am I up? Oh, it’s a somewhat common scenario. It has something to do with a big baby inside of me, and the corresponding teensy tiny bladder. And sore back. And a brain that won’t shut off.

If I don’t get up in the wee hours, I can usually make it through the night and feel (somewhat) rested. Tonight is obviously not one of those nights.

Graham got up to pee at about 2:30. It’s totally his right, being toilet trained and all. He went right back to bed, and to sleep. Just hearing him get up got my brain started. I started thinking about how uncomfortable I was, and how badly I needed to pee. Normally, if I roll back over, I can get back to sleep. I usually do this so as not to fully wake myself up.

But I thought that maybe I was tired enough to get up, go to the loo, and go back to sleep. Nope. So, after 45 minutes of alertness, staring into the dark, I got up again. Now here I sit.

I’ve been sleeping with earplugs in to avoid this scenario…and to keep me from hearing our blasted rooster at 5am. Now that the mornings are darker, Mr. Cock-a-doodle-doo has a later wake-up call. I thought I’d try to wean myself of the plugs. Not the greatest of plans, apparently.

So now I’ll do what I usually do when this happens. I’ll surf for a bit and then crawl back in bed. With my earplugs in. Honey is great and lets me sleep in as long as I need to after nights like these.

I know, I know, “Quit yer belly-achin’!” I’ll be even more tired once Baby D arrives…but at least I’ll be up for a great reason.

I’ll leave you with my most recent belly shot. You can see why my bladder has shrivelled to the size of a pea. I’ve got a whole lot of baby, and it’s all out front…and down low.

(Removed)

Three weeks today at the latest!

In my dream, I went into labour early and was not sure that we were going to make it to the hospital. The baby was RIGHT THERE. We raced to the hospital. En route, I realized I had forgotten my camera in our haste (gasp!), and somehow had the presence of mind to call Karen and tell her to come to the hospital and bring her camera.

We got there just in time to deliver a baby GIRL. 6 pounds, 6 ounces.

Some people put great stock in dreams. I’m not sure if I’m one of those people, at least with my own dreams. For one, I had experienced a great blow to my head the day before, and two, the only way I’m going to have a baby that small is if I delivered TODAY. We’ll just have to wait and see…four weeks to go…or maybe less.

My check-up was perfect, per usual. Baby is fine, and did the usual kicking of the doctor’s hand while she was using the Doppler. I’m obviously not in pre-term labour (yay!), and the doctor asked how my “irritated uterus” was doing. I told her that I carry on about my day, and then sit down when it starts to get uncomfortable. She told me that I was probably doing too much, but as long as I continued to listen to my body, all should be well.

She then made my day by telling me that I was “all baby.” My weight gain was good and it was all due to baby, with not really any extra. I love her. I don’t believe her, but I love her.

Now here’s where your imagination comes into play. Picture me, big basketball out in front. I’m wearing a black camisole tank top which is having a hard time keeping my belly from peeking out the bottom of it. I’m wearing a skirt and some flip flops. I stop at the liquor store to pick up some beer for a beef dip I’m making today (and to just have on hand – not for me, of course).

There I am, standing at the till. 8 months pregnant, with a big blue shiner. Pulling my tank top down with one hand and balancing a case of beer on my non-existent hips with the other hand. If that don’t say small-town hick, then I don’t know what does. Good thing I can laugh at myself.

As for the shiner, it’s now getting more of a red hue. Soon it will turn a nice shade of yellow. Even though it was entirely my own fault, I know that strangers in public probably think that my hubby hit me. Anyone that actually knows him knows that that would not be possible for him to do. But I feel awkward and want to stop everyone on the street and explain that I fell up the stairs. If I did that, however, they would probably think, “Yeah, right.” So, I say nothing, and plan on keeping my public appearances to a minimum.

At least I didn’t do this the day before Baby D arrives. That would make for some great baby book photos.

Anyway…for Nathan’s birthday party, I went on a cleaning rampage. I vacuumed every corner and crevasse in this house. I found some clusters of dust bunnies that were planning a hostile takeover, but my trusty steed (the vacuum) and I vanquished those critters. The irony of the mad cleaning spree was that the party was a barbeque. Outside.

Since then, I have been thinking of all that needs to be done, and all that I want done. I painted an old dresser that Matthew built, which will be used to store toys when our family room is renovated. All that is left is to attach the new hardware. I have gone through digital pictures and selected those I want developed. I have further organized our already organized personal files that hold bills, etc. I just may resort to colour coding to appease my inner geek.

Of course, I’ve slowed down the last few days. On that note, I feel better today. Still can’t over-exert myself, but I’m not nauseous. Looks like it wasn’t the flu, but more likely a case of being over-tired. Not a far stretch.

Honey has also caught the nesting bug, as he himself pointed out to me. He’s already a neat freak to begin with. He’s actually more of one than I am. He spent the entire day on Monday going through our basement and we now have huge piles for recycling, the dump, and the thrift store. He is on a mission.

Which is likely why he spent some time poring through the IKEA catalogue. Yes, yes he did. We are heading to the Coast tomorrow for a quick trip – as in about 36 hours. Return. We are going to leave the kiddies with his sister on Friday morning and head to that big Swedish store. Could be dangerous? WILL be dangerous. We have some serious organizing to do what with the family room/bathroom renovation and the moving of the boys into the same room. Plus, it’s a chance for us to get out together – always a bonus.

On another pregnancy-related note (isn’t everything pregnancy related right now? Soon it will all be newborn related), check out what my friend Judy brought me today:

If you can’t read it, it says:

HOOTER HIDERS
NURSING COVERS FOR HIP MOTHERS

I had a good laugh at the name, but I think it’s a great idea. I remember all too well being in public and nursing the boys. I’d spend time fiddling with a nursing blanket that kept sliding off & showing my goods to the world. I don’t care if others pop out their boobs to nurse, but I’m a little shyer about that. We’ll see if I like the Hooter Hider…or maybe I’ll just become an exhibitionist. It’s the one time in my life that my chest doesn’t look like two mosquito bites, so maybe I’ll revel in that. Doubtful, but maybe.

Apparently the boutique Judy bought it from can’t keep them on the shelves. I checked out the website. Maybe I’ll be a “hip mother” too.

I like to think I already am.

Neither she nor I want this baby to come this early (33 weeks). She did a swab (read: speculum) to send off for testing. Apparently, if pre-term labour were about to start, there would be some kind of protein on the swab. She then did an internal. Baby is still high (yay!), cervix is closed (yay!), though it is soft – but that’s normal for subsequent pregnancies.

She told me that it was likely an “Irritated Uterus”. It can also happen in subsequent pregnancies (along with everything else I’ve had for the first time this pregnancy). My poor uterus is tired and grumpy from holding these big babies of mine. Sort of how I get some days. Kind of a catchy name, though, don’t you think?

In all seriousness, I’m glad that the baby isn’t en route right now. While I talk about being impatient to meet him or her (which I am) I also don’t want a pre-term baby with possible complications. Childbirth is scary enough without any added drama. I’d rather have a moody uterus and carry this baby as long as I can than to have an early baby with possible health issues. So far, so good.

I told her I was feeling a little nauseous today as well. She thinks that may be a touch of the flu. Sweet. Like I wasn’t uncomfortable enough already. She told me to keep my feet up and eat a liquid diet. I’m so very blessed to have an amazing hubby who also works from home and is so hands-on with the munchkins.

Before you think I’m disobeying the doctor (and Matthew) by being at the computer, I have a laptop with wireless Internet. My brain is still working, so I should be able to get some small work projects done while I’m stuck here on the couch. It’s not official bed rest, I’m just to take it easy. I’m not bedridden. Yet. No lifting heavy items (aka my boys), etc. I really don’t like how I’m feeling, so I don’t think I’ll have a problem laying low.

On a brighter note, the baby is doing great. Measuring fine, and an nice happy heartbeat of 148. And another positive – the doctor told me that she worked a lot this weekend with my friend Heidi who’s a maternity nurse. Heidi happens to be working 10 days before my due date, so unless this baby comes earlier that October 11th, that will be the day I’m induced. To quote the doctor, “We can do this with our favourite nurse.” 5 weeks tomorrow!

That’s where we’re at right now. Keep us in your thoughts and prayers – we don’t want my uterus to get any more irritated than it already is and evict its tenant. Not yet, anyway.