Guess who’s officially full term (37 weeks)?
That’d be…the sprout, technically speaking.
There is no question that my belly is definitely full term OMG can it stretch any farther?! It is in a constant state of outness, if that’s even a word. My belly button goes from flat to complete outie depending on where the sprout is laying and how much I’ve recently eaten.
Yesterday, we had another OB appointment (I go weekly, now). One of the non-fun ones that will, from this point forward, include no pants.
I’m getting ahead of myself, here, but at the end, as Tim was trying to wipe off the gel stuff they use to listen to the fetal heartbeat and he was all, “You still have some in your belly button…”
I looked at him, pushed out my belly so my belly button popped completely out and smiled up at him all, “There you go!”
He just looked at me like, “Seriously?” and then started laughing.
I know. Sometimes we act entirely inappropriate and I’m sure people who see this kind of behavior cannot believe we’re actually going to be raising another human being.
Anyhow, the appointment! In (some kind of) order!
Suffice it to say they were late getting us back into a room and then I had to sit on the table thing for almost half an hour without any pants on. After about 20 minutes, Tim – who, by the way, was fully clothed and sitting in a chair – was all, “I’m starting to get annoyed.”
I looked over at him like, “Really? You’re complaining? I’m the one sitting here bare assed.”
The doctor finally came in and apologized for the wait and then proceeded to violate me in ways that are nothing compared to what childbirth will be like.
The good news is that (if you’re a guy, you might want to stop reading now…or maybe we passed that point already with the no pants) my body is actually doing something and the menstrual-like crampy feeling I get off and on isn’t all for naught.
I am officially one – almost two – centimeters dilated and 75% effaced with a cervix that is barely a finger tip long.
And she felt his head (WEIRD!).
Even though I am aware that this really means nothing and I can go 42 weeks without any further progress, I’ll have you know I said that to the OB all, “I know it doesn’t mean anything…” and she was like, “No. This is actually really good for a first timer.”
I’m doing well….for a first timer.
And this first timer ended up super crampy and spotty after such an exam, I’ll have you know. But, whatever, it’s progress, right?
I told Tim, who was legit bouncing off the walls knowing that I only have nine more centimeters to go before the sprout can make his appearance, that this weekend must include a ridiculous amount of walking and lots of um…(earmuffs, family)…deed-doing.
We’re also cleaning the house from top to bottom and I had a wild hair and decided to wash all the bedsheets this morning.
I’m sure it’s not nesting.
More like pre-preparing.