Well, all has been quiet in the blogging world but that has not at all been the case in the real world of 36+ weeks pregnant.
Last Sunday we were sent to the hospital under the assumption that my water had broken. False alarm. It happened to be my mucus plug, in all its glory, escaping its entrapment, but I was only 1cm dilated so sent home we were.
Fast forward to Wednesday when we found ourselves once again guests of the labor and delivery. After being shuffled from waiting room to waiting room, and nearly witnessing childbirth right there on the waiting room floor, 3+ hours without even so much as a nurse taking my blood pressure or checking my contractions was enough for me to subsequently lose my mind. Lucky for us…and them, a room became available .5 seconds after my meltdown.Not without further hiccups of course; the dirty blanket and blood splattered pillow case that were provided upon entering the room didn’t go over too well, but that’s neither here nor there. (Just an FYI; never mess with a hormonal, potentially in labor, women…it will be ugly and will not end well for the non-pregnant, non-hormonal party no matter how crazy or in the wrong said individual may or may not be.)
Once settled they took a peak at little Shelby via sonogram and physical exam only to reveal I had dilated from 1cm to 3cm. Not to mention my contractions were 2 minutes apart. We were kept overnight under the assumption little miss was going to make her grant entrance. Shelby had other plans.
In true women fashion, She has proven to be quite indecisive and so she decided she wasn’t quite ready and halted all debut proceedings, retreating back into silence… we, once again, headed home on Thursday evening with Shelby still in the bun cooker and just a tad bit frustrated.
By this point I had received 6+ bags of fluids, IV antibiotics, plus steroid shots to help Shelby’s lung develop in case she did make an appearance before reaching 37 weeks gestation. I left the hospital 6lbs heavier than I arrived, all in water weight; blow fish status was an understatement.
Determined to make it to 37 weeks and to not make the drive back to the hospital until it was REALLY time…we found ourselves sitting, yet again, in labor and delivery this past Sunday. This time for severe all over itching. Who knew wanting to make besties with a Brillo pad and subsequently scratch the dickens off your feet could be such a bad thing when pregnant. We were introduced to Obstetric Cholestasis, when the liver stops sorting and removing bile and creates a highway of sludge causing uncontrollable, intense itching of the feet, legs, arms, hands, etc. Long term affects to mom: none, once baby is born and liver functions returns to normal. Long-term affect to baby: possible stillbirth. Perfect. Leave it to me to come down with a rare, potentially harmful disease during the last trimester of what has otherwise been a textbook pregnancy.
Today we are heading to the doctors for a wellness check up on Shelby to make sure the sludge highway hasn't backed up enough to cause concern for her well-being. Sonogram number 16 for this pregnancy including all the sono's to count viable follicles when we were trying to get pregnant. Though my OB is confident that I won't make it to or passed 38 weeks, as I am 37 weeks 2 days, and Shelby has already dropped, I can't help but want her out now knowing the situation could become dire rather quickly. It's nerve wracking to walk around not knowing exactly what's going on in this little oven of mine and while I hope she decides to come on her own terms, I am secretly holding out hope they'll induce me sooner rather than later and the constant worry will all be for not. I'm ready to hold my baby girl and I'm ready to have my body back.