Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Taking it easy, continued.

I am having difficulty starting this post. My mind is torn between typing and watching my stomach bounce from side to side in a very uncomfortable manner. Note to self: Even 2 oreos is too many for the little boy in my stomach.

To update on our (mine and Ransom's) current status, we are doing well. I am supposed to be putting my feet up as much as possible, not doing much around the house, and according to my OB, "Give up potty training". I am still having frequent Braxton-Hicks contractions and occassional real contractions with constant pressure and discomfort in the lower regions of my oven. At my appointment Friday, she told me that our goal is to make it 2 more weeks before Ransom makes his grand entrance to the world. She said after this two weeks, if he comes, he comes. That will put me at 37 weeks, which is the first week of what is considered "full-term". By that point, there is very little worry about his lungs or his ability to breathe on his own.

My flesh is so selfishly ready to be done with this pregnancy. I hate that I am unable to be as active as I would like, that I have to depend on others to take care of my responsibilities while I keep my feet up. I am also having a difficult time getting comfortable when sitting or trying to sleep. I just feel ready to have my body back to myself. But then the mom instinct bumps me on the back of the head and reminds me that what is best for my baby boy is to bunk with me for at least 12 more days.

12 days. I can do that. But then I think of friends who have had pre-term labor conditions and then carry past their due date. The good Lord knows what I can handle...

So-- tomorrow I go to my OB for my 35 week check-up. (I have technically completed 35 weeks and am 3 days into my 36th week.) As of last week I was still about 50% effaced and 1cm dilated. It will be interesting to see if anything has changed or if my PBS Kids marathons have helped stop any progression. But for tonight, I am going to try to find a position in which I can sit without seeing Ransom's foot stick out of my side, and I am going to watch White Collar while cuddling with my husband... with my feet up.

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