Been up since 1:30 and I think I've read EVERYTHING ON THE INTERNET.

Been having contractions all that time... since 4:30 they've been about every 7 minutes. Much better than before, but still not close enough. Starting to really hurt though... doing all the usual stuff... breathing through them, closing my eyes, getting a backrub. I'm doing OK but I'm starting to get a bit nervous about driving to the hospital through 3 or 4 of these, when I can't get into a more comfortable position. Plus I'm really wanting to get into a bathtub deep enough to cover my belly, I had a bath at 6 this morning when things were starting to get painful and it was awesome, but would have been even better if I could get the water up over my belly.

Getting closer now; about 6 minutes apart. Maybe time to phone the midwives.

Please, please, please God, do not let this be false labour.

Still pregnant.

I was reading one of my handouts over the weekend about post-dates pregnancy, and it said I would be offered some monitoring at 41 weeks to check up on the baby. Then I looked at when my next appointment was: Wednesday night at 5. Meaning, I'd be getting an ultrasound requisition probably after business hours, meaning I probably couldn't get in until Friday or maybe even later... 1 week and 4 days overdue. Seemed a little late to me... at that point with Wil I was already having a c-section. So I was getting antsy. (Then again, Wil also came out covered in vernix... clearly not as overdue as they said he was.)

I paged the midwives to see if they could just maybe phone the other team (who does their office visits today) and get a req written up for the biophysical profile ultrasound, but instead they had me come in, which was good. Had a listen to the baby; heartbeat's good, his head is still well down. I had the student and one of the midwives today, so the student checks the baby's position and stuff, then the midwife comes to have a feel as well. As soon as she touched my belly she remarked on how much fluid I've got in there (no wonder I feel huge). So that's good news since obviously I'm still producing enough amniotic fluid for the baby and the placenta probably hasn't started to lose function or anything.

They checked me... 1 cm dilated but stretch to 3 cm easily, 80% effaced, baby's at -1 to -2 station. They said there was a big bulge from the amniotic sac, so I wonder if that's part of the reason he's not right down yet (so much fluid he's really floating). Once his head's right up against the cervix, all this false labour should start to do something useful. They gave me another stretch and sweep (got one at the appointment last week) - yeeouch! Good thing Matt was there to hold my hand.

Now to wait and see if anything happens...

Still having contractions, but not as frequent this morning as last night.

I really hope all this "false" labour means I get like a four hour real-labour-to-delivery time... and not that my body just has no clue how to make the next step.

Starting to think about what needs to be done in the next week... probably need to book a few ultrasounds to check up on things. I guess I'm going to have to get referred to an obstetrician after my midwife appointment this week to book the repeat c-section (boooo) if this kid doesn't come out on his own. I won't be induced again; knowing what effect those drugs had on my body, I think it's a bit too risky to try after having had a c-section with Wil. I really didn't want to go down that road (dealing with Wil and the baby by myself at two weeks post-major-surgery is a bit terrifying) but I can't very well be pregnant forever. Bleh.

Starting to get kind of depressed by the whole thing. I was annoyed and whiny before, but now I've just kind of given up on this child ever making an appearance on his own. We've tried half the old wives' tales out there to make a baby come out; nothing is working. I can't be bothered to try any more.

Just another crappy day at 9 1/2 months pregnant. :(

Still pregnant. Not dealing very well. I think it would be more OK if I hadn't had so effing much false labour. I'm only 5 days overdue, which is not that unusual, and I think I could deal with it if I hadn't had, oh, probably forty-five hours or more of false labour so far. I'm guessing at that number... I lost track after the first 35 hours. Four hours last Saturday (I thought that was bad - HA!), thirty-one hours starting Wednesday at 4 p.m., and then a whole bunch more yesterday afternoon and continuing overnight. I've stopped paying attention to the time - what's the point when contractions never get close enough to be "real"? And I thought they weren't supposed to bloody well hurt if they weren't "real"?

Anyways, I had been updating facebook and talking about the ridiculously prolonged false labour on a chat board, and I got some comments back that were basically, "STFU and quit whining". So I'm not going to be talking about it at either of those places anymore (though I'll probably update facebook when we head to the hospital, if I remember). Yes, I do recognize that I've been ridiculously whiny about the whole thing. It's not been easy for me though - physically and mentally - with all the false labour and those kind of comments really upset me, so I've decided to just take a step back from the social internet for awhile.

Anyways, yeah. If you don't want to hear me whining, stay the hell away from my blog for the next few weeks. I need one outlet at least.

Why can't my children show up on time? Or better still, early?

*muttermuttermutter*

We go to the midwives tomorrow morning... hopefully they can do something to give Thumper a little nudge. I am so, so, very done. I don't want to waddle anymore. I want to be able to wear my wedding ring again. I want to sleep on my back without getting all short of breath. I'm so uncomfortable at night, I'm not even getting any more sleep than I will be with a newborn.

So. Very. Done.

While I'm glad my body exhibits signs of actually starting labour on its own this time, I have to say that the four hours of contractions and general achiness and cramping I had last night kind of sucked (since it did not go anywhere). I phoned my mom to let her know I might possibly be in labour, and did she want to come now while she was still awake or risk the possible 2 a.m. phone call. And within about an hour of her leaving with Wil, everything calmed down. Bah!

Um, I guess I'd better stop referring to the baby as "she".

(Not actually our photo, but it looked pretty much like that.)

Same thing as Wil... baby found a comfy spot, curled up and went to sleep. Only with Wil, he had his face squished against my uterus and we got no good pictures, but at least they finished all the diagnostic stuff. This one wouldn't show us his/her spine from the right angle, so I get to go back again and test the extreme limits of my bladder. Awesome.

Anyways, pictures! Or Rorschach inkblots, if you're not used to looking at ultrasounds.

Why can I not get excited for tomorrow's ultrasound? I get to see the baby! And find out if it's a boy or girl! Or twins! (I have an irrational fear of having twins.)

Shouldn't I be excited?

Of course, I am supposed to get up at 5:15 or so and have drank 1 L of water by 5:45 for my 7:45 appointment, where I am expected to be dancing around the waiting room praying for the appointment to be over quickly so I can pee. God forbid they're running an hour behind like the last 18-20 week ultrasound I had. They gave me a styrofoam cup and told me I could pee, but only till the cup was half full. Like I could have stopped. I chose to continue dancing around the waiting room and annoying the staff.

Perhaps that's why I'm having trouble getting excited.

(Good thing I learned last time that you don't need nearly that much water, and you don't need it that far ahead of time. I am totally cheating tomorrow.)

Or, My Birth Story.

I am a bit hesistant to write about it, because I know someday William will learn to read and I never want him to confuse my feelings about his birth with my feelings about his arrival in our lives. These are two very different things for me and I hope he will be able to understand that.

I have so much frustration and hurt and anger and regret about the birth though that I need to write this down to let it out and get on with my life. I know this may be rather intensely personal (also rather long), so if you're not interested in it please feel free to move along to the rest of the great big wide internet rather than telling me that I'm a sucky blogger or my kid is going to hate me or, even worse, that it was for the best, because I'll never know what would have happened if I had followed my gut instinct and waited a few more days, and what happened over the week around his birth does not in any way feel like it was for the best.

Mom let me use the computer in her office. Sure is nice having someone you know work here!

They've given me another dose of Cervidil because when they checked me, I was still only 1 freakin' centimeter. Bah! However, I am having regular, increasingly painful contractions and there was some other progress made, so things are moving along slowly but surely. I think I'm a bit past watching videos on the laptop or playing cards because sitting in bed is quite uncomfortable, and they don't have any exercise balls for me to sit on until I'm far enough along to get transferred back to the labour unit.

I think I'd better head back to the unit now before they start calling a Code Yellow (missing patient) on me.

Posted by Matt on Tamara's behalf.

Well, I've been at the hospital since about 9 a.m.... should've been a bit earlier but we (and by that I mean me) were moving a bit slowly this morning.

I was pretty stressed out coming in, and had a good cry before I left home, but things are actually OK. The induction is going pretty slowly, which seems more like what happens naturally, so that makes me happy. Right now they're using Cervidil on me, to open up my cervix some more before they try anything else, and they're letting it go for quite awhile to see if my contractions start on their own once my cervix is open.

Being induced means you can't leave the hospital, and they've got me in the unit with all the hospitalized pregnant ladies and the postpartum moms... I've unfortunately got a roomate whose husband brought horrible smelling food (I think it's kimchi or something) and my room just reeks. You get used to it after awhile, but my beautiful brand-new robe Matt bought me as a pre-labour present is probably going to reek... I'm going to have to send him home with laundry if I go into labour and it still smells, because it is not a pleasant scent.

One thing I am really happy about is that I'm free to wander off if I please right now... Matt and I have been walking the halls and climbing the stairs all day. I think I've done about twenty flights so far, which is a good bit more than I generally get in a day. I am going to have some bitchin' quads if I don't start contractions soon.

Hospital phoned. They have a spot for an induction today. Suuuuuuuuuck.

So, I guess I'm heading to the hospital. Going to meet my doctor there and see what the procedure is and how much they're willing to accomodate me.

Dammit, dammit, dammit. I didn't want it to be like this.

Still no baby. I had a few contractions yesterday, but nothing regular... just enough to taunt me.

We spent yesterday either running around to medical tests (baby's still just fine), getting last-minute stuff, or trying everything we could to make the baby come out. I did finally find a hollow rolling pin for the hospital bag. We learned about that in our childbirth class... you can fill it with either hot or cold water and use it for massage when your partner's hands get tired. Matt and I tried it out yesterday and it looks like it would be really great for labour. We also bought some magazines for all the interminable waiting that goes on at the hospital. We didn't have any on Wednesday when we went for the non-stress test and it was so boring.

Today's the day my doc wants to induce. I'm still not convinced it's neccessary, but I'm kind of getting to the point of letting it happen anyways - if I get some control over the process. I did a lot of reading yesterday about all the stuff they can try and the side effects and risks, and I have an idea about some stuff I'm amenable to if they're willing to discuss the timeline. I guess I've come around a bit to the school of thought that maybe it's better to induce while the baby is still healthy and happy and start from a good point, rather than wait and possibly start from somewhere where Pinchy's not as happy. I'm still waffling though. I mean, if I go now, or I go when the baby has less amniotic fluid, and they just break my waters anyway and he has no fluid, aren't I in the same place anyhow?

And I'm still totally not happy about having to use the Pitocin... it means so many things I didn't want become absolute certainties instead of vague possibilities. If I let them use the drip, I'm going to be stuck in bed, flat on my back, with monitors hooked up to me at all times (quite possibly the one they screw into the baby's head... ouch) and no chance at all to use any of the comfort measures I had wanted to try before jumping straight to the drugs, because what else can you do when you're not allowed to move at all?

I guess we'll see how it goes with the doc today... I'm going to call the hospital and ask about the induction list (I think I'm a fairly low priority so it might not even happen today anyways) and see if I can get my doctor to sit down and discuss everything thoroughly so I can actually give informed consent and not just... pushover consent.

... a good eight hours of sleep, and a little Fatboy Slim, OK Go, and some Napoleon Dynamite to start the day. :)

I'm in a much better mood now, more like I was on Tuesday (I will not, however, say that "Today is the day!" because everyone saw how that turned out last time). I'm getting my case together to fight against an induction on Saturday (things like the World Health Organization recommends against routine induction before 42 weeks, and Matt and I and all our siblings were two weeks late - some induced at two weeks over, some came on their own - with no complications). I really feel like my doc is pushing it because it suits her schedule best, something which doesn't concern me in the least. I'll keep going for ultrasounds and non-stress tests and any other hoops they want me to jump through, but as long as Pinchy and I are both healthy, they can keep their damn Pitocin to themselves. ;)