where things begin to get hairy.
really, please, if you will...send me baby dust.
we went to see good ole doctor hersh on tuesday afternoon. at the appointment we weren't supposed to have, you know, cause arlo was supposed to be early.
he empathized with my cranky face, looked me dead in the eye, and said, "if i were you...if i were sitting where you were sitting right now, i'd have my membranes stripped." which is exactly what i had been talking with our doula about earlier that morning. so, we went for it. his first exploratory movements told us good news: my cervix was moving to the anterior from the middle, and it was soft. but then it turned bleakish: there i was, on arlo's due date, not one centimeter dilated. closed. shut. practically padlocked.
typically, the membrane stripping works best when you're already at least a little dilated. shut up like i was, it hurt badly, and was not as "satisfying" (his word) as he would have liked. "you're about one centimeter now. if it works, something should start to happen within 48 hours."
and if it doesn't? we go back early monday morning for round two.
if we still have no luck, arlo will be induced (such a strange word) on wednesday. though i know a handful of mamas that have gone through induction with very little complaint, i'm terrified. because if the induction doesn't take, then we move on to c-section.
i should say: nothing is wrong with the baby boy. we watched him in there for a bit on tuesday, squirming around, a kick here, a fist up by his face. he is pleasantly surrounded by amniotic fluid. he responds to my voice, to andy's voice, to the dogs, to jay-z. frankly, i wouldn't want to come out, either. especially today...its cold.
but he's got to. so, if you could, send him a telepathic message or two about how great things are out here, and how i'm such a good knitter, and i'll make sure he's always warm and cozy.
we went to see good ole doctor hersh on tuesday afternoon. at the appointment we weren't supposed to have, you know, cause arlo was supposed to be early.
he empathized with my cranky face, looked me dead in the eye, and said, "if i were you...if i were sitting where you were sitting right now, i'd have my membranes stripped." which is exactly what i had been talking with our doula about earlier that morning. so, we went for it. his first exploratory movements told us good news: my cervix was moving to the anterior from the middle, and it was soft. but then it turned bleakish: there i was, on arlo's due date, not one centimeter dilated. closed. shut. practically padlocked.
typically, the membrane stripping works best when you're already at least a little dilated. shut up like i was, it hurt badly, and was not as "satisfying" (his word) as he would have liked. "you're about one centimeter now. if it works, something should start to happen within 48 hours."
and if it doesn't? we go back early monday morning for round two.
if we still have no luck, arlo will be induced (such a strange word) on wednesday. though i know a handful of mamas that have gone through induction with very little complaint, i'm terrified. because if the induction doesn't take, then we move on to c-section.
i should say: nothing is wrong with the baby boy. we watched him in there for a bit on tuesday, squirming around, a kick here, a fist up by his face. he is pleasantly surrounded by amniotic fluid. he responds to my voice, to andy's voice, to the dogs, to jay-z. frankly, i wouldn't want to come out, either. especially today...its cold.
but he's got to. so, if you could, send him a telepathic message or two about how great things are out here, and how i'm such a good knitter, and i'll make sure he's always warm and cozy.
Comments
we need you....i need you.
I've been singing to myself all day:
"A to the Rizzo, L to the Izzo!"