The Last Appointment Ever...

I woke up several times during the night for the usual reasons: my body weight put my thigh to sleep and I needed to hop around a bit, I had to go deal with the .38 of an ounce of urine that was killing me to hold, someone/something was throwing up beside my bed...you know, the usual.

And every single time I did, I sat on the side of my bed and thought "was that a contraction?"  "Am I going to go into labour before I have to go see the doctor today?"  And every single time the answer was 'No.'

Finally I woke up around 5am and lay in bed watching the sky get lighter and praying for my friend Cari, who actually HAS something to complain about because today she's 10 days overdue and going in for an induction.  I tried to remind myself that not only was I NOT getting Pitocin today, which was a blessing in and of itself, but that I had plenty to be thankful for.  Both the baby and I were still healthy, despite being more than a week and a half past our mutual due date, and I didn't dislike my OB, which was good, and although I super-absolutely-for-sure didn't want my membranes swept today I also have super-absolutely-for-sure dealt with worse pain than it could cause before.

Plus, it is my last hope for labour to start without being admitted to the hospital.  And no matter how unpleasant it may turn out to be, it surely can't be worse than A) my first induction, which involved two doses of prostaglandin gel, 21 hours of Pitocin, 5 attempts at an internal monitor, the world's worst wrist IV, a non-working epidural and a vomiting husband.  Or B) a Foley catheter, which is what they're going to give me on Thursday, if this doesn't work.

Then I got out of bed, took a shower, raided my hospital bag for something to wear that looked comfortable and made a pot of tea.

And worked on some make-work type projects, like slowly compiling my list of names and addresses for Christmas cards and birth announcements for this year.  And washing winter outerwear to ready it for storage, and clearing off the top of my dresser.  Wandering, wandering.

Once David woke up I tried to get him to agree to just let me go into the hospital and refuse to leave until the baby arrived.  But he reminded me that everything was scheduled for Thursday, and I just had to be. patient.  And then I divorced him.  Just kidding.  But barely.

So, off to the hospital I go.  The appointment of doom is at 1:15pm.