22 days until the due date and all's well.
But it's been an interesting 24 hours. (Forewarning, there's some discussion of bodily fluids in this post. Close the browser window now if you'd rather not read about the grosser side of being a pregnant lady or forever hold your peace.)
Yesterday morning started off well. Spent a few extra minutes at home in the morning to get the house in order. (Ahhh.) Boarded the train and a man immediately stood up to give me his seat. (Double ahhh.) Filed a brief when I got to work. (Tripple ahhh.)
And then I had to pee. (Huge surprise.) So I headed to the restroom, did my business, and noticed a (final warning!) vaginal discharge which was decidedly pink. There wasn't an insubstantial amount, but I wasn't worried. Likely because I thought back to Doc F's lack of concern after the three drops of blood made their debut at Ikea. Erring on the side of caution, however, I decided to call the doctor's office.
When one calls my doctor's office, one must select from a few options. #1: emergency, labor, doctor calling doctor. #2: appointments, patient calling doctor. There might be a 3, but I always push #2.
A perfectly nice lady assigned to #2 answered, and I presumed she was a receptionist of some sort. I told her what was going on, in order to explain why I was a patient calling doctor. Instead of just taking a message and a phone number (the usual result upon selecting #2), she asked if I'd had my bloody show. I felt my heart rate spike. "What? I DON'T KNOW! It's my FIRST pregnancy! Holy hell." Then it occurs to me that I am talking to the receptionist, and I suddenly want to know why she's taken on the job of diagnostics. Perhaps she is a bloody show aficionado? "Pleaseletmetalktoanurse!" She put me on hold. Which gave me a moment to reflect on that awful term, bloody show. Perhaps I haven't committed its meaning to memory because I find the phase so incredibly disturbing. Who came up with it? And why do medical personnel use it? It's awful. Really, really awful.
A medical assistant took my call fairly quickly (causing me to identify another perk of reaching the last month of pregnancy, no more pressing #2, leaving messages and awaiting a return call; now I'm a VIP. Booyah!). She peppered me with questions. No, I haven't had any increased cramping or discomfort. No, I haven't had any contractions (90% sure of this -- still assuming I will know them when I feel them, first pregnancy and all). Yes, I've had plenty of fetal movement this morning. Diagnosis? It's probably a sign that my cervix is thinning and possibly a sign that I am losing my mucus plug. Totally normal. Not a cause for concern. But call if I have contractions lasting a minute spaced five to seven minutes apart. Call if there is a gush of fluid. Call if I don't experience five fetal movements within the hour. Okay.
Despite the medical assistant's reassuring words, my heart rate was still racing. Yes, I was two days away from the full-term mark. But I had convinced myself that Tater would arrive late. (I mean, seriously, if he's anything like his parents he is not a punctual fella. Tom and Holly aptly refer to us as Lord and Lady Laterson.) I thought this might be a sign that Tater was already rebelling against his tardy genes, but did not have the mental composure to confirm my suspicion. So I took the easy way out. Panicked and called Brad. He was THRILLED with the story, eagerly latching onto any sign, however speculative, that he would get to meet Tater sooner rather than later. Brad's glee only increased my panic, so I moved on to the next option, racing into Nicole's office and lying on her floor.
She Googled "bloody show" and "losing mucus plug" and began reading what popped up. Could mean delivery within the week, could mean nothing. Plug could pop out and then reform. Might not even be my plug. Depending on the site, I was either moments away from labor or making a giant mountain out of a tiny molehill. Oh pregnancy Googling. I will not miss you, but I presume you are a good model for newborn/infant/toddler Googling. Can't wait.
The uncertainty flowing from the Google results actually calmed me down a bit. But just a bit. Instead of worrying about going into labor, I worried about all of the suddenly URGENT to-do items that needed to be completed ASAP. My mind was still unreliable and easily distracted, so I sent Brad a list. Thankfully, he was eager to put his excited energy to work. He followed up on the cord blood donation paperwork that has yet to arrive, made vet appointments for Saturday morning so we can make sure Maggie and Brewster are up-to-date on their shots before Tater arrives, and scheduled an appointment with a Chicago Police Officer to inspect our car seat installation. (That appointment is at 8:30 on Saturday morning. If the seat is installed correctly, the officer will give him the thumbs up and send Brad on his way. If it's installed incorrectly, the officer will remove it, re-install it, scold Brad, teach Brad, and make Brad watch a video. The vet appointment is at 9:40 in Hyde Park. Seems Brad is very confident in his ability to get it right the first. Fingers crossed.)
Amazingly, I managed to get a decent amount of work done in spite of my frazzled brain. And last night I went to a Sassy Moms event with Meghan. We never figured out if we were there to benefit a charity or just to meet vendors who are targeting sassy moms. (I could identify with the jewelry, slimming clothes, manicures, and massage tables. I was a bit perplexed by something called eyelash dipping and the scantily clad vodka peddlers.) We almost left early, but I was bound and determined to figure out when and how we would get the swag bag that was mentioned on the invitation. I was more interested in the bag than the swag, because it was billed as a 1154 Lill Studio tote and I really love Lill bags. Just when I was getting a little grumpy about unfulfilled promises, the bags appeared! Hooray! If you want to know more, check out Meghan's blog post about the event. She even posted pictures.
To round out the interesting 24-hour-period, I woke up at 4:00 a.m. this morning to pee (huge surprise) and could not fall back asleep. Result: this post.
Thankfully, today has been uneventful. No more signs of impending labor. But I'm really eager to hear the results of the first vaginal exam, which is happening Monday afternoon. Aren't you?