The Sassy Uterus

Still pregnant...

38 weeks, one day.  Oh wait, it's after midnight, so 38 weeks and 2 days.  I had a prenatal appointment yesterday a.m. and was disappointed that they didn't check me.  Usually I am not one to look forward to internal exams but I would like to know if any dilation has occurred.  As I've said before, I get things done.  That's my thing.  It's also my obsession and therefore, a part of my OCD diagnosis.  It falls under the "gotta be perfect" umbrella.  So I'd like to think I've dilated some.  I've contracted, and I'm quite pleased at myself with the amount of contractions I've accomplished.  And I'm sure I've dilated but my OB is keeping that info from me. 

She doesn't find it important just yet.  Well I do.  I need a scale off which to judge my progress.  I need a status check.  I need to organize this info into my brain and somehow chart it.  I know I sound like an obsessive first time mom.  Well, ha!  I'm an obsessive fifth-time mom! 

I'd like to just go into labor, get the needle in my back and squeeze the baby out.  Because that is on the top of my to-do list and it bugs me I can't check it off yet.

At 6:15 last night I started maternity leave.  I am a bit worried.  On one hand I adore the idea of sitting on my ass doing positively nothing but building a baby from my favorite ingredients: fruit loops, Girl Scout cookies, and the occasional salty snack, on the other hand I have found that in times past that this occupation doesn't pay well.  I've applied for disability and I'm sure I'll get a check.  Someday.  But in the meantime, the OCD diagnosis kicks in and I fret.  I'm a fretter.  If I can't do, than I fret.  Not exactly the peaceful existence I had always thought I'd have.

So what to do in the meantime while I'm waiting for baby but trying not to fret about money?  Well, I'd read but G4 doesn't like me to divert my attention from her at all.  I'd sleep, but that's putting myself on that part-time bedrest again and that won't do.  I'd craft something but G4 will want to play along and I've never managed to find a way to be crafty with kids that doesn't make me want to go running from the house with all my craft supplies tucked under my arms.  Still learning to share.  It's taking awhile.

I can't drink insane amounts of coffee, which is another pastime of times past.  The baby tends to get REALLY, REALLY hyper.  I can't smoke.  I hear that's bad for the kiddo.

So I'm on a search to find what I *can* do.  I could clean but that gets sooooo old.  And it gets soooo dirty sooooo fast.  And listen, I'm obsessive enough in other areas and I don't need it to spread to cleaning.  I'd never stop.  I guess I'll have to Google for ideas. 

2 weeks, 3 days left

Not that I'm counting.  Okay, I'm counting.  And I'm forgetful so that means that later tonight I'll have to recount.

My back and pelvic pain are pretty severe.  B5 is tucked away nicely, occassionally kicking the crap out of me to make sure I know who owns this body.  Needless to say, I'm ready for this to be over.  I say let's do it right now.  I try talking to the baby, explaining he'll have much more room on the outside.  He feigns sleep. 

I'm finished packing, for the most part.  I have to pack toiletries that I first must buy because I'm not packing the ones I use daily, only to constantly pull them out each day.  The last load of Dreft wash is in the washer right now and I just finished the baby quilt.

It's exceptionally hard for me to be patient.  After four kids you'd think I'd be better at that, but instead I am worse.  Waiting on someone else to get something started that affects me is hard. 

I like to get stuff done.  I'm kinda good at it.  It's sorta my forte.  Babies are good at waiting, chilling out, relaxing, doing their own thing.  These two things do not go together.

I might take a nap, to make the time pass but I find I've done that a lot lately to the point of putting myself on part-time bedrest and that surely won't get this baby born.  I know all the old wives tales regarding how to bring about birth and I'm not interested.  For one, I will not injest any liquid or capsule that ordinarily I wouldn't dream of taking.  This rule is especially true for any fluid that has "oil" in its name.  So I'm sorta stuck. 

I am stuck, there's not "sorta" about it.  I'm Winnie-the-Pooh stuck in the hunny pot.  Or bee's tree.  Or wherever he got his fluffy ass stuck.  That's me.  Fat, fluffy, and stuck, waiting for my baby to pull me out of this mess. 

And to complicate matters, all four of my children are acting a bit out of sorts.  This is because we are in Post-Holiday Status (PHS).  PHS is when they are all coming down, quite crankily, from their sugar highs.  The highs wouldn't have been so bad if not every single member of our extended family hadn't shoved mass amounts of sugar down their throats yesterday.  PHS, put frankly, makes them assholes. 

Although G4 seems to be in a good mood.  While I was trying to go Potty (capital P = #2), she stood outside the door singing to me.  Anyone who hasn't had the experience of being serenaded with "Feliz Navidad" while trying to take a crap is surely missing out.   

This is the ticker for baby #5!

I would really like this as my banner.....

Minus the "Happy Holidays" and signature line.  Not sure how to go about purchasing it.  This can be found here

One more try....

Just checking the whole re-publish thing out....

A confused beginning....

This is my very first post of what, hopefully, will be many.  The majority of the evening has been spent trying to map the domain to the domain name...yada, yada, yada, computer-geek-speak, yada, yada, yada.  I hope it has worked.  If not, I will be calling my father over here for help.  Again.