So I went to the baby doc last Friday and asked, "When do I get my next ultrasound?"
In another two weeks if you haven't had the baby yet.
UM,
whuuuut? At this point I still had
four weeks left, so to cut that time in half was a little... alarming. So then I happened to mention (read: screech out in genuine panic) that W and Ru were going to Texas this weekend, which falls in that "two weeks if you haven't had the baby yet" time frame. To which, the baby doc said:
Hmm. You'd better come in the day before they leave. If you're at four centimeters or more, they probably shouldn't go. OK, now we're officially off the reservation. Because that, dear friends, is in two days. In two days, la
docteur will check my
cooch and tell me if they baby is coming right then or not. I AM NOT DUE UNTIL MID-OCTOBER.
But let's breathe. Because, last time at least, I was in labor for at least eight to ten hours before I went to the hospital,
and I was just then at four centimeters. Since I haven't had any signs of labor or
pre-labor yet (
Punxsutawney Mucous Plug has not shown his head to let us know if we have another three weeks of pregnancy or not), I am trying to remain calm. And frankly, even if T showed up right now, we'd be fine. There's just so much more stuff I'd like to get done beforehand -- silly nesting instinct.
Anypoodle. That's where we are. There are actually things (funny things! interesting things!) going on in my life that don't have to do with this pregnancy... and yet, with limited energy for this blogging
bidniz, this is what you get.
