as my great-aunt Lucy would say.

i thought i was gonna die this morning. die and give birth at the same time.

when i wake up in the morning, the first thing i do is look up to see if Jay's awake, roll over, and waddle my ass over to bathroom to pee.

i got my ass out of bed and it felt like there's a bowling ball sitting in my giney ready to fall out at any second. obscenely painful contractions started. you could not tell me i was not gonna have this baby and die at the same time. Jay's trained so that when i smack him in the face and yell "GET UP NOW!" he knows it's that time.

instead of just breaking the law doing 100 on the expressway to get to the hospital as planned, Jay wants to be all rational and shit and calls the doctor, who, btw, i'm really starting not to like. he wants us to come to his office instead so he can check me out himself because it could be false labor. i'm like, 'bitch, i got on a nightgown and sweats-- acceptable HOSPITAL attire. this is not doctor-visit attire." cause even when i think i'm about to push a little person out of my cooch, i'm still shallow as hell.

so, we pull into the parking lot and Jay runs around the car to help me get out. me being in pain he will never be able to comprehend, i snapped at him. okay, i snapped at him and hit him with my bag, but only because i didn't want him touching me. his touching me is the reason i'm all fat and pregnant and having contractions and feeling like my vagina is about to explode.
i walked shuffled into office, didn't say hello to the receptionist, didn't sign in; i took my ass straight through that door and screamed for the doctor to bring his out and if i had to come looking for him, there was gonna be some trouble.

obviously, if i'm typing this now, i didn't have the baby; but if i'm this fucking crazy with a false alarm, i feel sorry for everyone who has to deal with me when it's the real thing. i'm pretty sure someone's getting punched in the face.

so yeah, it was false labor. she's officially "dropped" though. i'm only 25% effaced and haven't even dilated . oh, and the doc said the reason i tend to have more contractions in the morning is because my bladder is full and i'm not as hydrated as opposed to later hours of the day. ain't that a bitch.

i've been the one who's most insistent on carrying baby girl the whole 40 weeks for obvious reasons, but i can't do it. i feel really bad about that because i feel like i'm being selfish and putting my own wants before baby girl's NEEDS. but i really don't think i go 3 more weeks feeling like this. the doc told us we could try to induce labor by all the classic means: eating spicy foods, walking, sitting in a warm bath, SEX.

sex would be my first choice, but a reddish-brown slug-like thing fell out of my vagina yesterday, there's still some discharge going on down yonder, and i'm still pretty sore from the ECV. for the first time in a very long time, sex is far from the top of my 'to do' list.

i'm sooooo not doing the spicy food thing. having ass-vomit while i'm pushing just doesn't appeal to me.

right now, i'm just laying in bed. i don't feel like walking and i'm not lifting or spreading my legs to get in the bath. kiss my fat, false labor-having ass. in a minute, i'm gonna allow Jay to come back in the room so he can lay with me and rub my back. i kinda banned him from ever talking to me again because he said i was "mean as hell."

i don't know what the hell zoe is doing in there, but it feels she's using my cervix as her own personal piano and must play every single key a thousand and one times.

this is not fun.
not at all.

i think i'm gonna cry again.

Labels: baby business

--i refused to spellcheck @ 4:00 PM | |