Cranky squared

According to my mother, I was born 9 days late, which is exactly how late little Reed is today. At this point, I’m having contractions 24 hours a day, some extremely painful and lengthy, others more mild. Often, they develop a pattern — coming every 10 or 7 minutes — and just when we think maybe we should time these they manage to dissipate into randomness. I also now have a cold (thanks Adam), which is only adding to my discomfort. When getting a non-stress test yesterday to make sure the baby was tolerating contractions ok, my contractions actually pegged the meter (going way over 100 — not sure what that really means, but I know it was measuring uterine pressure), so I’m pretty sure they’re legitimate contractions. I just don’t understand why I keep having so many of them when they never seem to turn into labor. I’m having one right now as I write this and were I standing, I’d have had to lean onto something to stay on my feet. I can take the pain, but I can’t take it all going nowhere.

Fortunately, the non-stress test and the ultrasound we had this week show that the baby seems to be doing fine, so at least I don’t have to worry about that point (and he’s still a boy, which is also good to hear). But as we get closer and closer to Monday — the day they’ll want to induce me — I’m starting to get more and more anxious for labor to start on its own.

The really annoying thing about not going into labor by your due date is that people constantly feel the need to comment on it or ask about it. I know they’re just being nice, but I really don’t feel like talking about it since I’m frustrated enough with the thoughts in my own head. While I like my neighbors, I purposely tried to avoid them (unsuccessfully) on my walk today because I just didn’t want to talk about how I haven’t had the baby yet. I hate feeling so anti-social, but I really am getting sick of answering questions about how late I am and all that.

Not surprisingly, all of these things are making me rather cranky as Adam can attest. I know I’m taking things out on him sometimes, but, to be blunt, he should consider himself lucky for not being on my end of things. To have uncomfortable and painful contractions all day, to feel big as a house, to have a nasty cold, to be exhausted because you just can’t seem to get enough sleep, and to be worried about how long it’s taking for this baby to get the show on the road is much worse than having someone crab at you. While he has lost his patience a few times, he’s been taking very good care of me and deserves a medal for managing to stay positive.

It’s funny… during this pregnancy, I put so much thought and concern into what would happen when I was in labor (what I wanted, didn’t want, etc.). It never occurred to me that going into labor period was going to be the major issue. At this point, I just want to have a healthy baby and I don’t care what it takes to make that happen. I’d really rather avoid a c-section, but induction is actually starting to look appealing, even though it would probably lead to a cascade of other things I don’t want (like an epidural, which scares the living daylights out of me, being a person pathologically afraid of needles, especially those going into one’s SPINE!). #1 for me right now is meeting my baby and I will accept whatever it takes to make that happen.