A Whole Lotta Nothin'

I had an impromptu check up yesterday.  Not because anything awesome was going on, but because they (correctly) were calling for a lot of snow over night and into today, and I didn't want my appointment, originally scheduled for today, to be canceled.  I think it's safe to say that anyone who has a guess in the baby pool for the next week is probably going to lose.  Sorry, I wish there was more I could do about it.

The word is there is absolutely no dilation and no effacement happening.  I was bummed.  I was hoping for a centimeter, at least!  I know people walk around 1 cm dilated for weeks, but at least it's a start.  Instead, nothing.  Mom was so kind to tell me that just because nothing was happening at 2:30 doesn't mean that I couldn't be in full on labor later that night.  True.  And I learned that in our birthing class, but still.  Nothing.

The doctor told me that I should start praying to St. Gerard.  And, for extra good measure, I should also light a candle.  Dang.  It was really bleak.

I also lobbied hard, in a final last-ditch effort, to have her consider the original due date of Dec 27th as medical fact instead of what is looking increasingly like hopeful Ashley fantasy.  I even went so far as to offer to name the baby Carol (girl or boy) if she could promise it would be born in December.  Clearly her name is Carol.  And, while she was very excited at that prospect, no dice.  Dang again.  I held it together though, and left there thinking that maybe I could try mind over matter for another week to see if the power of mental motivation can actually get the body into gear.  I didn't tell her that the thought of being pregnant until Jan 13th (worst case scenario) is something that puts me on the verge of tears.

And let me be clear...

I'm not on the verge of tears because (1) I am anxious to meet our baby, or (2) because 9 months is a trick and really you're pregnant for 10, or (3) because the baby is making me so uncomfortable that I want to scream, or (4) because I hate not being able to shave my legs or polish my toes, or even put my shoes on without a heaving effort, or (5) because I'm tired of being winded walking up the stairs, or (6) because I just want one glass of wine, or (7) because rolling out of bed like a beached whale 3 times a night to pee is getting a tad bit old, or (8) because wearing the same 4 shirts and same 2 pairs of pants every day is getting redundant, or (9) because it's time already, or (10) because I think my belly button could actually shoot right off the front of my body at any given second if I stretch any farther.  No, not because of any one of those reasons alone.  Rather, a combination of all the reasons, and then some.  And because for the love of everything chocolate, I'm getting cranky, and that is atypical, and I. don't. like. it!