Sunday, October 2, 2011

The Rest of Friday

During my doctor's visit on Friday I had a lady parts exam and my OBGYN stretched out my cervix a little bit, in an effort to jump start labor. This is the third time that I've had them do this for me-- for the past 3 weeks at each visit I've had the midwives and then my doctor perform this mildly uncomfortable procedure. It supposedly helps some women. Not me, though. No labor.

There's normally a little bit of blood later on in the day, from having them mess with my cervix. Well, on Friday it seemed like sort of a lot of blood. Not gushing out of me or anything, but enough that I said, "Maybe I should go get checked out at the hospital." So I did. I went to the hospital Friday night (Husband and my mother-in-law stayed home with the kiddos, as they were already sleeping). Clark was fine. My contractions weren't close enough together to be official labor, and I was still dilated 4 cm. So they sent me home. The nurse was really cool about it-- all "better safe than sorry! you did the right thing!"

The nurse that I saw kept telling me how "cute" I am. I'm certain that she didn't mean cute as a synonym for attractive, but cute like you call newborn kittens cute-- all helpless looking and kind of pathetic. She even called another nurse over just to look at me. That was weird. I said that it was a very nice thing to hear at 40 weeks pregnant, as I haven't felt anything close to "cute" in a while. Especially by a woman who just had her fingers up my hooha. But I didn't say that part out loud.

Also, while I was in the waiting room, a hospital patient walked by and talked to some of the nurses at the front desk. The nurses had apparently heard about her delivery the other day-- an 11 lb 3 oz baby boy delivered vaginally and delivered very quickly. The nurses kept calling her Superwoman.

Dear Clark, Please don't weigh 11 lbs. I am not Superwoman. Not even close.

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