that I've been having contractions for almost a month now? Of course you didn't and why would you? I don't particularly like to broadcast those sorts of things on these here internet parts because I think it can be counterproductive. The power of positive thinking, ya' know? But a good bitch session is good for the soul, so, here are a few things (or ten) that I'd like to say about the current situation.
1. For the record, I'm talking five-minutes apart, not the Braxton-Hicks kind, off and on for 3-0 days, basically since I got sick. Can you say capital F-U-N????
2. Apparently, Marlo is a comedienne. The girl's got jokes.
3. She better be cute. Or at the very least, make me laugh a lot. Who am I kidding? She'll be both. With a dazzling personality to match. Duh.
4. I truly thought that last night was go time! I even had my mom on high alert. However, I went to see the doctor this morning to get my lady parts inspected and I received news that I've made zero progress. It strikes me as funny that the said cervix in question was far more cooperative during the getting-pregnant part, wasn't she?
5. To pour salt on an open-wound- or an iron clad cervix, if you will- I received this unfavorable news from a smug asshole male doctor who not only reassured me that this could go on for another two weeks (yay!!!), but literally told me that I need to readjust my pain-factor scale. Why are men allowed to be OBGYNs? I could've bitched slapped him.
6. My boobs are blissfully unaware that the baby has not yet arrived. They're already doing their job. Awkward...
7. I find it ironic that when I asked a nurse last week what can help bring on labor naturally, her answer was the one thing that got me into this situation. Sure, let's try the sex.
8. Yesterday, I went on a long walk on the greenway near our condo. This greenway passes by the hospital where Marlo will make her debut and there are always pretty interesting characters hanging out along the entrance to the hospital. One particular man- who appeared to be homeless, drunk, and pushing an empty wheel chair- ran after me and asked me if I needed help because I was 'waddling like a duck'. I get it. I'm huge.
9. I made an appointment at the smug-asshole's office for next Thursday to do a protocol non-stress test on the baby. They do those when a baby has gone past their due-date. I'll be forty weeks and five days pregnant. Fuck. That. Noise.
10. Do not climb stairs for thirty minutes when you are past 39 weeks pregnant. It doesn't bring on labor. You're better off trying the sex. My ass has never hurt so badly. And, seriously, who cares about tight buns when you're this pregnant? Not this mama.
Where's a good fertility statue when you need one?
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