Still No Baby
Well, he didn’t come on the 4th.
I know due dates aren’t like UPS shipping estimates, and babies don’t come with tracking numbers (although when I mentioned this to my mom, she said “They should get on that!”)—but to be honest, all my expectations were focused on Davy coming early. Given how supremely close to bursting I was feeling, it seemed impossible that he could stay in there a full 40 weeks.
Apparently not only was that possible, but the Internet assures me that it’s in fact possible he’ll stay in for 41 or 42. If I truly believed this, I would cry: the idea of enduring these “prelabor” contractions on top of the usual full-term pregnancy discomforts for two more weeks is so awful that my mind basically refuses to accept it. And then I need to stop and remind myself, again, that it’s far from the worst thing in the world, and as long as Davy is thriving then I can manage whatever I need to manage.
But if we do go to 42 weeks, I’ll be faced with a real problem: the hospital will almost certainly want to intervene at that point, because past 42 weeks there are risks to the baby from remaining in utero. Many doctors want to induce at 40 or 41 weeks, but I’ve picked a hippie-crunchy-friendly hospital where I’m actually attended by midwives rather than doctors, and they tend to be more hands-off about these things. The problem is that I’m a poor candidate for induction because I’ve had a prior c-section, and the drugs they use for induction would increase the risk of my uterine scar tearing open. So although my midwife did seem willing to contemplate the possibility of induction when I talked to her, I’m not entirely sure that they wouldn’t end up just scheduling me for another c-section instead. I really don’t want that: Sam and I are probably going to want a third child, and each c-section you have increases the risks of complications in subsequent pregnancies. Induction itself also increases the risk that labor would end in a section.
Again, c-section is not the worst thing in the world, and I guess I may just have to dwell on that for a while. But I really hope Davy gets a move on—not just because I want him out of me now but because if he doesn’t come out on his own, none of my choices are great.
July 5th, 2010 at 2:46 pm
I was a lazy one too: due around Christmas and I didn’t show up until January 6. I’m sure my mother didn’t appreciate it one bit, but I’m glad I was allowed to gestate until I was ready to face the world.
I hope Davy gets motivated to get out and explore ASAP. Good luck mama!
July 6th, 2010 at 6:53 am
Thank you!
July 6th, 2010 at 1:07 am
C’mon Davy! It’s not so bad out here. We have stuff like cake and hugs and science fiction! 😎
July 6th, 2010 at 7:32 am
And the Internet!
Yes, Davy, come see the world. It’s fantastic. The French have the concept of second dessert, and the Swedes build hotels all made of ice. There’s an island in the Bay of Bengal where we have no idea what the people are like because they’ve refused all contact with the rest of the world. Right here in California we have birds with ten-foot wingspans. It’s a strange and marvelous place, the world, you really ought to try and see it!
July 6th, 2010 at 7:16 am
Given our recent experience, it’s a good thing that due dates aren’t like shipping estimates… Davy could end up three weeks late, and in Utah!
I know you wouldn’t choose a c/s, and I really hope you don’t have to have one, but the absolute risk after multiple c/s is still very, very small, even though it’s increased. And hey, a scheduled c/s would be an incredibly civilized experience. If I have another one I hope to get to try to VBAC, but if I can’t then I am going to enjoy the heck out of the advantages of a scheduled c!
July 6th, 2010 at 7:33 am
Nina! I THINK I’M IN LABOR RIGHT NOW.