Today is my official due date, which I’m realizing means absolutely nothing. Despite being effaced and the baby having dropped weeks ago, and despite the fact that everyone I know who’s had a baby in the past year went early, nothing is going on with my cervix. I haven’t gained an ounce in two weeks, which is a good indication that labor is imminent. But even though I’ve been having contractions of some sort or another for three months, they don’t appear to be doing their job.
The last appointment was Thursday morning. I got checked and the nurse practitioner called my OB who was out of the office last week. The doctor set up two non-stress tests for Monday and Thursday. If there are any concerns about the baby’s welfare (losing amniotic fluid, or placental/umbilical cord/oxygen problems) or she appears to be in any sort of distress on Monday, they’ll induce me. If not, we’ll wait till Thursday and see how things are going. If, at that point, I still haven’t begun to dilate, they’ll probably just check me in to the hospital and get the ball rolling.
I have to admit I’m not thrilled about this option. A small part of me thinks maybe I just got my dates wrong. I don’t know when I ovulate, and I can’t remember the date of my last period, so I just sort of guessed. Then again, we had an ultrasound at 9 weeks and were told that these are often very accurate; fetuses grow almost exactly the same for the first 12 weeks. It’s beyond that first 3 months that they change in how they develop.
I know that a healthy baby is key, and when they’re ready to come out, they come out. It’s not like she’s going to stay until kindergarten starts and pop out knowing how to read. I won’t be pregnant forever. It just feels that way. But there’s a lot of frustration on my end with having taken off the past week and just waiting. And waiting. I can’t help but think that every day that passes is another day where I’m not getting accustomed to having a baby in the house, and another day without a paycheck. And, despite the fact that I’m very lucky to have health insurance right now, it’s not a stellar plan, so I could be looking at out-of-pocket costs in the thousands.
I got my last check yesterday and deposited it. It was a little more than enough to pay the cell phone bills and I’m done. With Charlie’s work situation getting more complicated and less likely, we’re both trying not to let it freak us out. He got called in for a meeting with the owner after our last OB appointmet on Thursday. We thought it was going to be a talk about his raise. Instead, it was a printed list of problems the owner has with him. Really trivial, stupid shit that ended up making Charlie angry. Like, he doesn’t wear dress shirts on Saturdays; he doesn’t answer his cell phone quickly enough; he spends a lot of time in the office doing paperwork.
I’m not shocked that this happened, but I think Charlie is. I think he believed he was immune to the owner’s micro-managing and paranoia because he’d gone so long without being on the receiving end of this sort of stuff. But it was really just a matter of time. The guy can’t keep general managers at the club because he always begins to obsess over tiny details and pushes people away.
I guess I’m being kind of selfish because I really wanted to stay home with her for an extended period of time while I finished my last 30 credits and got that damn degree. I hate the idea of looking for a job when I have yet to finish college and don’t have that piece of paper to “prove” my worth. Especially with how things are going in the job market right now. But Mel is right: the joy of the baby will overshadow these concerns as we get to know her. I know, in the end, we’ll be fine. We always manage to figure out a way to make ends meet.
