Labor that is. We thought last night was the night. I'd been having consistent contractions since 4pm, they were increasing in duration and intensity. So I walked for a little while to keep them coming. When we got to the hosp. the Squirt's heartrate was in a dangerous range of 180-200. I was dehydrated. As soon as the 3rd IV stick worked and I got fluids, his heartrate went down to a comfortable range in the 150's.

The Dr. on call said bedrest means bedrest. And I need to be drinking all day. Which Iusually do, but the nurse suggested an increase of about 60 oz. in addition to my already 100 oz. intake. We were disappointed on our way home. Now having woken up for the day and processing what happened it has occurred to me that I really put the Squirt in danger by being so anxious. And I feel really bad.

The Word of the Day is... Preeclampsia

My urine came back yesterday as preeclamptic. My BP's were also high again. The Dr. put me on bedrest, instructed me to make another appt. for an NST for Monday. Watch for signs of rapid onset swelling, and headaches. I've been having contractions since yesterday but not regular by any means. If I get through the weekend, we'll see how the NST goes on Monday and induction is heretofore a topic of discussion.

I'm tired. E is freaking out. I'm bored laying in bed and it has been only 12 hours. It's also a little difficult to reach my laptop keyboard to type. So, I'll let it go for now.

Get your freak on

I had a Dr. appt. yesterday at 9:40. I got seen at 10:20. My blood pressure was high. Truthfully it has been borderline this entire pregnancy. I'm still having spikes in my blood sugar. The Dr. was looking at my history and decided to send me to the lab for some blood work, order a 24 hours urine analysis, and send me to L&D for a Stress Test.

The Squirt really had everyone going. Everytime they placed the heartrate monitor on him and left the room, he would move. So they had to restart the test several times. I was having contractions while strapped up too. I think I had 4 while I was there. He maintained activity and heartrate through the contractions so things looked fine. I didn't get a vag. check which I'm OK with. I hate those things. After they were done with their tests I waited for 40 minutes before they came back in and told me I could go home. I made it home 10 minutes before the bus dropped off Dani. Sure, I wasn't stressed at the hospital, but making that 45 minute drive home trying to beat the bus did stress me out.

Sitting there feeling and watching the contractions come on was kind of driving home the idea that we will have a baby sometime soon. Very soon. Based on the urine analysis they will decide whether they want to induce me early or not. It was like deja vu. I remember having the same issues (except diabetes) with Dani at exactly this point in my pregnancy . I had the blood pressure, stress test, analysis (which didn't warrant any concern), and was told the same information. I went into labor with her at 37w2d. That is this Sunday with the Squirt. SUNDAY!!!

Am I ready? Well that depends on your definition of ready. Do I have the stuff that I need? I think so. Do I actually feel ready? No. With Dani we went to hospital that night just as a precautionary measure. Little did I know that I was actually in labor. We just went with the flow. Now, I know that my body is going through the same changes and processes and it makes me very aware that the same thing could happen. I love planning and scheduling, but I also know that he may not come this weekend.

I know that he is strong enough to. I know that he is in position to. I know my history suggests that he is ready. But I'm a little freaked out.

Ok, make that ALOT freaked out.

Story Time

I'm sitting here at 35 weeks and 4 days pregnant, trying not to contract, and reflecting on this pregnancy. Currently, I am hungry, which makes me think about my blood sugar which is turning out to be the bane of my existance. It is getting more difficult to maintain the requirements set by my doctor. The morning fasting number is the most frustrating. It is supposed to be less than 90. However, I have only accomplished this twice. It doesn't matter what I do the night before. Have a no carb snack, no snack, or my regular snack, my number is still above 90. I've even tried..... *ahem*.... 'exercising' before going to bed and that didn't help either.

The worst side effect of gest. diabetes has been how it has effected my sleep. Last night I drempt that I was throwing caution to the wind so E, Dani, another little girl, and myself were going to Olive Garden for dinner. I was going to get a big plate of pasta and a tiramisu. When we got to the OG, it was closed. Like not the OG anymore. Instead it was some sort of medical clinic that didn't advertise exactly what they did there. Well, I was pissed. And crying. And I had to pee, so I went in to use their restroom. Only, they wouldn't let me leave. It was some sort of weird medical commune.

We tried to escape several times but their security kept getting tighter and tighter. Not too mention that, although it was Florida, the parking lot was 3 feet deep of packed and rutted snow. By the end of the dream, we had been placed in an apartment within the confines of the commune, and members of the staff were posted outside our house with shotguns in case we tried to leave. They even made us open all of our windows slightly so that they could hear us in case we tried to make an escape plan.

I even tried calling the police on my cell to tell them that we were being held hostage by these weird doctors and the police were saying that they couldn't intervene unless there were shots fired. And my cell phone battery was dying, and I didn't have the charger. Of course, I couldn't use the house phone because it was bugged.

All that for a tiramisu. That I never got. I woke up starving.

Overheard

This exchange was overheard the other day when Dani (whose ALL imagintive play revolves around her being pregant at least twice in a 5 minute time frame) and a friend were playing.

Dani: My water just broke.

Little Girl: That's OK. I'm a plumber!

How's this for Southern Comfort?

Let's discuss comfort. I don't know what that is anymore. Currently, I think my uterus is over my ribs. Sometimes when I bend the wrong way I feel like my ribs are going to pierce my uterus. For several weeks I have felt like I have a bruised rib because the Squirt pushes constantly on one spot. The only relief I have is when I lay down. And I can't lay down all the time. I have stuff to do. And a 7 year old to entertain. Plus last night, it felt like whatever side I was laying on pushed my ribs to overlap the other side of my chest. I feel like my skin is the only thing keeping my body together.

Comfort food. None. The doc slightly reprimanded me for a few spikes in my blood sugar at my last appt. I would love to have some ice cream. I really don't think that 2 or three spikes is bad for 2 weeks of good readings. Especially when I know exactly what caused them.

Baby shower. Makes me uncomfortable. I don't generally like having a fuss over me. My friends are all so excited though, and they really want to celebrate with me. For that I am indulging them. Plus, I really didn't want to spend all the money myself buying everything, but I was prepared to. Baby showers have always been so painful. I could probably count on one hand the number that I have attended. And I hate shower games. On the upside, I love visiting with my friends. Talking, laughing, eating (screw blood sugar that day), crying. I have been so lucky to have such good friends here.

Clean comfort. I don't have the energy to clean the whole house in one day. So, I take a couple of days to clean the house. By the second day, the first day's stuff is all messed up. And someone who takes wood ash out of the fireplace and sprinkles it around the house like fairy dust the day after I have vaccuumed and mopped doesn't help. I'm looking at you Dani.

Cool comfort. I know that Florida gets hot. I know I feel it more because I am pregnant. But Gawd it is HOT. I can't go outside to weed my flower beds, like I could bend over to get there anyway. I can't sit out on my front patio that E made for me because it is too hot. I can't go for walks, again to the chagrin of my doctor. Even the swimming pools and the Gulf are too hot.

On top of it all. I'm having a baby. Sometime in the next 3 to 6 weeks. I look at Dani's baby pictures and wonder what she would look like as a boy. I remember her snuggling with me, and sleeping on me. Smiling, and babbling. And then I start crying because I have loved every minute with her. Even though she drives me insane she does it in the most creative ways. Then my nose gets stuffed up and I can't breathe and I start gagging because I can't blow my nose because I can't catch my breath. Then I throw up because I'm gagging. And let me tell you, throwing up in front of the toilet in the last trimester of pregnancy, retching and peeing at the same time, is the most uncomfortable of all.

I'm so lucky.