Routine doctor's visit was uneventful. From here on out I think it's mostly pee in a cup, let me take your blood pressure and check the baby's heart rate, bye. Being of a consumer mindset, I sort of expected and wanted the doctor to check my cervix again to see if it was the same length. However, my doctor being intelligent, as well as conservative, said it was not a great idea to routinely go poking around, possibly upsetting the cervix now that we know that it has a tendency to randomly shorten.
Unless I have a symptom that justiies it, she leaves it alone. Very sensible. Part of me would rather have some egghead perinatologist take a computerized measurement that tells me the exact size, tells me I can move around and then acts all surprised if something goes wrong.
It's better to be conservative, honor the fact that it IS unpredictable, and I should just sit my booty still for another 3 weeks. I DID call the doctor on her initial statement that she'd be grateful and thrilled if the baby could stay in for 32 weeks. She said that at the beginning of my pregnancy. Now I'm on bedrest 'til week 34. But I called her on it, in jest. I've been doing the same thinking as well. As we hit one goal, I mentally ratchet up the expectations for the next higher goal. Every single day counts. Every day that the baby is inside this nice, cushy joint that I'm hosting him in is a day that he's stronger and less likely to have to spend any time in an incubator.
So when I was at 28 weeks, 30 was the goal. Now that I'm at 31, 34 is the goal and when I reach 34, 36 or 37 will be the goal and after that we'll just say, "hey are you done yet? Come on out." Anytime after 36 is pretty much the same as 40 weeks, I think it's just mostly body weight at that point - all the developmental stages will have been met. What about those poor women who deliver at 42 weeks? I can't fathom the idea of a late baby? Just as I think coming out to soon can be not great for a child, I think hanging around in some stale joint for too long isn't good for them either. It's like that book, "Who Moved My Cheese." After 40 weeks, your cheese is getting stale and you need to move on.
I don't get kicks, I get lots of martial arts foot sweeps to the belly. His little feet skate along the underside of my belly like a dolphin or shark fin making ripples under the water before coming up.
I speak of this because it's misleading to first time mothers and those who haven't seen pregnancy first hand. People mispeak and say the baby's kicking and you think poof a one-off kick. That happens sometimes, but more ofte it's like watching one of those portable massage things for your chair at home, where you see the little shiatsu balls making circles beneath the skin of the seat cushion.
I find that it's harder for me to watch sci-fi shows now because it sort of makes me apprehensive seeing random things bursting from people's bodies. I was watching Fringe tonight and this parasite crawled out this guys mouth and I just thought, no more science fiction 'til my baby's born. I'm as sci-fi as it needs to get. Mark has found himself a little more sensitive to horror movie themes as well. He watched The Unborn and commented on how it was creepy. I think pregnancy causes all of us to lose a bit of objectivity.
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