Hey, hey, what can I do...?

Nothing. Not a damn thing.


I wont be trying castor oil... Never once heard good things and I am a firm believer that it would only trigger labor if labor was about to start anyway, plus, not a fan of explosive diarrhea.

Spicy food won't work because I eat spicy food EVERYDAY... heh

Sex... Let's not go there. Sex drive has returned but unfortunately Quinn's head is so low that it doesn't exactly feel so good to me.

Walking... been there, done that, will probably do it some more today.

Raspberry leaf...? Been taking it in that herbal supplement (along with Dong Quai and Black Cohosh) since last week. It does give me more contractions, but as you can see, I am still pregnant.



Ignore the unmade bed. LMAO.

AND





So yeah, that is what a 39 week 4 day belly looks like: Uncomfortable.

39 weeks down

???? more to go?


I'll get straight to the point and the news you are all waiting for... Progress... We have SOME. I am now a fingertip dilated (none last week) 50% effaced (20% last week), and baby is at +2 station, or as DH calls it, "locked and loaded" (0 station last week).

My midwife is pleased. She says that for a first timer, that is nice progress. The only non progress thing is that my cervix is VERY posterior. My midwife has to really reach for it. She said it will move forward very quickly once it starts to dilate more and the time comes.

I gained 6 pounds in the week though. This made me cry, but my midwife assures me it's all in my elephant feet that won't stop swelling. The swelling is just my feet and ankles and as long as it stays there and doesn't spread to my shins and calves, she is fine with it. Stupid water retention!! I'm still well under their cut off point for weight gain (50 lbs) so she is really pleased because I eat really well and exercise.

I am GBS negative, so that's a relief for me, personally.


Here's hoping I won't make it to my 40 week appointment, but I am sure I will. Friday is a full moon and I can't say I would be angry if he decides he wants to be born that weekend.

Oh yeah...

Happy St Patrick's Day.

I have a love/hate relationship with this holiday. I hate the bandwagon Irish(wo)men. You know, the ones that only claim the heritage when it gets them another beer or the chance to grope a drunk chick.

I LOVE the fact that I have an entire day to justify my drunken Irish ancestry with pints of Guinness (OMG YUM!) and corned beef and cabbage (DOUBLE YUM!).


And, I love green.


So, all in all, I come out a winner on this holiday. And it looks like my son will NOT be a St Patty's baby *shrug*. Can't say it bothers me... although I am having some decent painful contractions since earlier this afternoon... I have my midwife appointment tomorrow afternoon so I will see if I'm getting anywhere with this pain and pressure.


So, my friends, get drunk for me and have an Irish Car Bomb or 7 in my honor!

Unbelievable...

Why can't good people catch a break?!?!

I'm just angry right now. I'm angry at the way the universe works and how it has such little regard for the pitiful human notion of "fairness".


Why do good things happen to people who have done terrible things to others while those who have stood strong and taken the high road get shit on?

All hypothetical questions, I know, but sometimes, when a day like to day catches me unaware, it just breaks my heart and makes me want to spit. Yes, literally spit.


This isn't about me... it's far more important than my whininess and complaints, it has to do with people who have been beaten down time and time again not getting to ever experience their utmost desires in life while those who have brought struggle to others and caused pain to innocent walk away with the fucking prize. It's fucking BULLSHIT.

This sucks...

Plain and simple.

I want to clean. Good god, my house needs it. By the time I get home from my 9 1/2 hour days at work, I am freaking POOPED and all I want to do is sit on my ever-growing ass and watch TV, knit, or sleep. Then, the weekend rolls around and I SWEAR I am going to clean.

Nope.

Still tired.

And, actually, do you know/remember how hard it is to bend over with a basketball strapped to your middle? It makes me winded just thinking about doing it, let alone bend, stand, bend, stand, walk a few steps, bend, stand.... UGH.

It's really driving me nuts and I wish wish WISH I had someone who would just say, "Don't worry about it, Jess, I'll clean for you." Heh, not that lucky, am I?

So with 10 days left to EDD, I am doing my best with what I call "cleaning spurts". Pick up a few things. Rest. Wipe a table or countertop. Rest. Take out all the wrapping paper trash from my shower 3 weeks ago. Rest. TAKE A NAP. Stand back and look at what I've accomplished, then sit down and cry because I've barely made a dent.

My frustration with this whole situation is getting pretty intense right now.

Seriously...

The outpouring of support I've gotten is beyond amazing.


I am in tears from all the kind words and encouragement friends and even a few strangers, ahem, NEW friends, have shared with me.

It feels good to know I am NOT alone in feeling this way and at the same time I feel like I am at the cusp of the greatest adventure of my life.

Am I still terrified? Fucking A right I am... but I know I can do this. It's been done for thousands of years before me, so why the hell can't I?

Enough mushiness... my hormones can't take it.

<3

Nothing to see here...

I'll admit it. I'm panicking. I've burst into tears at least 3x today, including in the check out line in Wal-Mart with the remaining items I need for my birthing bag.

I just feel so overwhelmed and unprepared. My house is a mess... don't even get me started on Quinlon's room, or should I say room that has his stuff in piles?

If he were to come tomorrow, we would make it. We have the essentials done, but I want everything to be PERFECT and I am just getting such anxiety from the fact that it's NOT done.



And, honestly, I get this huge knot in my stomach when I think of how I will soon have a tiny little infant depending on me and only me for EVERYTHING. I just don't feel confident in my ability to do this... And the idea of giving birth is terrifying me. It's irrational. Donnie keeps telling me how amazing I will be and not to worry. He says that if I can make him feel like he can do this, then there is no reason for me to be so worried. He believes in me, but lately I can't seem to muster any faith in myself.

I'm sure this is common... kinda like cold feet before a wedding.


I'm just so scared.