Pregnancy Update: 39 weeks!

Today marks week 39 of pregnancy for me. Here I am this morning:

And, at 39 weeks with Brianna (taken about 24 hours before I went to the hospital to have her . . . about 48 hours before she was born):

I think I'm about the same "big", the babies are just carrying very differently. It's hard to tell because I'm standing pretty differently as well.

So . . . today. Today we had an appointment first thing this morning with Dr. N. When I checked in, the receptionist (whose name is Tara and is so great . . . love her!) told me that Dr. N was gone to perform a C-section and that Megan would see me today. I had never met Megan before, but I've heard good things about her. She is Dr. N's PA. In hindsight, I really wish they would have just rescheduled my appointment :-(.

When we were called back, a nurse I had never met before called us back, got my weight, took my blood pressure, etc. It was just so odd to be 39 weeks along and not recognize anyone. I looked at Chris and said, "Who are these people?" because it was seriously a completely different staff than we normally see. Regardless, my blood pressure was 122 over 68 (that top number keeps creeping up a bit with every appointment) and my weight was up another 2.5 pounds. I can't believe I'm gaining that in a week's time! I still don't have a huge appetite, so I don't even know how that's happening. My total weight gain is now 30 pounds (ugh . . . I really wanted to stay in the 20s), AND I officially surpassed what I weighed when I checked into the hospital to deliver Brianna. During L&D with her - due to a few complications - the nurses pumped like 6 bags of IV fluid in me, so who knows what I actually weighed when I delivered her.

Back to the appointment. I get bottoms-off and wait patiently for Megan to come in. She does a pretty thorough ultrasound and determines that Brenson looks really good. His heart rate was 148 bpm (Dr. N rarely tells us this number, so I was glad she did), he was practice breathing well, and I still have plenty of fluid. All great news! Then comes the fun part . . . the cervical check. For those of you that don't know exactly what this is, it is where the doctor (or PA in this case) physically feels your cervix with their hand to determine if you are dialating or effacing. Yes, that means they put their hand down there, and yes, it's painful. It's not the worst pain I've ever felt, but I certainly don't look forward to it.

The only reason I say all that is so that those of you who have never been through this understand a bit why I was so irritated with what came next. Dr. N's checks are short and sweet. He gets in, gets the job done, and gets out. Megan's initial check took almost a full minute . . . ummm, youch! And it didn't stop there. She wasn't able to get a good check, so she had to do it again. She kept apologizing over and over while I laid on the table with my eyes closed trying to breathe and relax. She just kept pushing and fishing around and it hurt waaaaaay worse than any check I've ever had before! Then, she looks at me and says, "I still couldn't really find your cervix. I'm going to have to try again. So sorry." She proceeds to check me a THIRD time . . . more painfully and longer than the first two times.

Chris was still in the room with Brianna, but he had her turned toward him watching videos on his phone. I was so glad she was oblivious to what was going on because at this point I was getting very frustrated and really having to concentrate to breathe through the pain.

After the third check, Megan apologizes again (and honestly, I felt kind of bad for her, too), and says that she's going to have to go get someone to help her. She leaves me laying on the table (still bottoms-off . . . yay :-) for about 15 minutes and returns with someone. I'm not even sure who it was except that I *think* it was another doctor in the practice. I've never met any of the other OBs in that practice so I'm not even sure. And guess what he wants to do?

Check me. Again.

Okay, deep breath. He checks me (much quicker than Megan's checks, thankfully). After the check, he says, "Well, your cervix is still very high, so you may be dialated to a 1 or 2, but who cares?"

Ummmm, hi. That would be me who cares. Cue Are you kidding me? look.

Then quickly follows that statement with, "Oh, I know you care. My point is just that even if you are dialated, nothing can happen while your cervix is still so high, so I didn't really bother to determine exactly where you might be. You'll just need to talk to Dr. N about it in a week."

And they both left the room.

I had to seriously sit on the bed for a minute and gather my composure. I know part of what I was feeling was probably hormones, but I was beyond annoyed and upset with the situation. It was a pretty hard week physically, and I was so ready for some good news (just that I was making a little progress . . . that's all I wanted). I also had a few questions that I needed answered, and they were both gone before I even had a chance to ask anything. Not to mention that with all those checks I felt like my lady parts were on fire. I definitely left the office feeling a little defeated.

So, like I said, this was a hard week physically. I'm really to the point where it's hard to roll over, get up and down (I have a toddler, so this is a MUST), sit for long, stand for long, etc. Sleep is terrible because my hips ache and I can't get comfortable. I'm still loving chocolate milk, and this week have really craved those little powdered white donuts. So odd. I have sudden bursts of energy where I can be super-productive, and other moments where I feel like a slug. I think I'm right on track!

I was extremely disappointed after the appointment, but I'm better now. I'm just going to keep walking and rocking and praying for sleep and hopefully things will start to progress on their own. I have reached the point where I'm really struggling to be patient, but I can do this! I am a little concerned with how big Brenson is going to get while we're doing all this waiting. At some point, he does have to come out of me, and I would prefer he not be 12 pounds when he does. There are several {little} things that I'm trying not to worry about too much, but that do pop into my thoughts. We're really in the homestretch now, so I'm determined to enjoy these last few days the best I can.