So I said that my next post would have a baby picture attached to it - this isn't my baby, but if it was I'm pretty sure I would never stop kissing it.
So - HI.
I'm still, surprisingly, here. I'm still, surprisingly, pregnant. It's a good surprise. I think.
The best part? I am off bed rest.
(insert riotous fanfare)
Story: The doctor confirmed last week that I've had zero progression - I'm still the 2-3 cm dilated, 50% effaced that I was when I left the hospital. I'm still having pretty doozyish contractions, but not regularly or frequently. It's kind of unfair, because the contractions hurt, dang it, and I feel like they should be doing SOMETHING. But I digress. So since I'll be 36 weeks this week, I'm far enough along that they'll just "let me go" once labor actually starts.
I am now a paranoid hypochondriac, second guessing every tweak and cramp. Is it labor? Or just an upset stomach after my sixth cinnamon roll?
I also, strangely, feel ... gypped? (I don't think I've ever spelled that word. I had to look it up. Really? A "Y"?)
They had me convinced I was going to have this baby a month ago. We met with doctors and neonatalogists and I was prepared. It was nerve-wracking. It was frightening. It was stressful - but I was ready. There was the rush of steroids and the crossing our fingers to hold off labor til they were effective ... and ... nothing. We waited. And ... nothing.
A month of nothing has gone by, and now - DANG IT - I feel like I'm overdue. Even though I'm most definitely NOT. I also forgot how uncomfortable 9 months pregnant is. Is it bad that I catch myself missing bedrest occasionally? Maybe just a little bit?
I constantly tell myself that this line of thinking is stupid and unhealthy. Unfortunately, I never listen to myself.
(Just watch - I fully anticipate having to be induced at 42 weeks. It would just figure.)
So now I've got a month's worth of nesting saved up, and suddenly my baseboards and cupboards are vile and disgusting. There's a million things left to do. And my children are suffering from Extreme Park Deprivation. I recognize the symptoms. I also haven't signed in to my Google Reader or done any emailing in approximately, oh, three eternities.
This week is going to be BUSY.
I LOVE BUSY.
On a random side anecdote - while I was in the hospital, I got several visitors. One of which was the bishopric - the local priesthood leadership for our church. I was feeling all flattered that they took the time to visit little ole me, and after a few minutes of chit chatting about how much I hate magnesium, I thanked them for coming. They got all red and stuttered, "Well, that's not the real reason we came ...."
Then they extended me a calling - as the first counselor in the Relief Society presidency.
I think this is utterly hilarious. Half my ward (including the new RS president) is appalled by it and razz the guys constantly.
What do you think?
And perhaps more importantly - do you really think this belly has FOUR MORE WEEKS of room to grow!? Maybe we should take bets on how long I last ....
And hey. I'm glad to be back. Thanks for keeping me in your prayers - I felt every single one of them.