Yeah...If you're somehow connected to my mother I'm sure you know this by now, but if not...surprise!

I was thrown for a BIG loop on Thursday at my doctor's appointment.  And to think, I was so excited for it, to see if I was dilated at all, to discuss if I should go back to work on Monday, to figure out what happens if I go over my due date, etc. etc. etc.  Well.  I could've used just a wee bit more bedside manner from good ol' Dr. James, as I was told matter-of-factly that I would be induced on Monday.  If, of course I don't go into labor naturally over the weekend, which at this point isn't looking very good. 

First, all is well with baby and mom.  My stats continue to be very good - pulse and blood pressure normal, swollen as I am.  Baby Horne's heartrate was 139.  I wasn't even measured, though I suppose at this point, why bother.  I'm obviously ready, sort of, to pop.  The real kicker came when Dr. James checked to see if I was dilated.  And survey says...zilch.  Notta.  Well, maybe the tiniest itty-bitty bit, but if you figure I had to go from that to 10 cm in just a few days without any real or strong contractions, things were not looking good.  Sooo...

I was told as a point-of-fact that the girls in the office would be scheduling me to go into the hospital on Monday evening, so I could get the prostaglandins to ripen my poor hard cervix, after which he may have to break my water, after which I might need Pitocin to really get the contractions going, after which Baby Horne would finally be born.  He lost me at "hospital."  I actually had to ask him, "Wait, you're talking about induction?!?"            "Well, yeah", says good doctor, "why wait?"  Well I can think of a thousand good reasons, but at that point I was so shell-shocked I just nodded dumbly and listened to him jabber on about the whole process.

It turns out it's all a matter of timing, really.  It's my dumb luck to have a due date on the weekend, and we all know (not that I blame them) that no one likes to induce on the weekend.  I mean, who really likes to work on the weekend, anyway?  I get that.  So then the option is to get induced earlier in the week, when you have less of a chance of getting your appointment "bumped" by other ladies naturally having babies or scheduled C-sections or whatever.  Turns out the end of the week is baby prime-time at Banner Estrella.  (And, sidenote: judging from the amount of baby chimes I heard at work on Thursday and Friday, I'm inclined to agree)  SO, if I wait and schedule the induction for later in the week, I have a greater chance of getting bumped, at which point they can't do it over the weekend, at which point I'm then into the following week (all of this assuming Baby doesn't come naturally at any point), at which point I'm past 41 weeks, which is apparently bad, bad, bad.  Good doctor says they don't like anyone to go past 41 weeks, ever, so again, "Why wait?"  But it just feels not right to be scheduled for induction literally the day after my due date.  I feel like poor Baby H. doesn't even get a fighting chance to come out on his/her own accord. 

I do realize the benefits of it all, I guess.  Less risk to mom and baby if the uterus becomes "inhospitable" after 40+ weeks.  The longer I wait the bigger Baby gets and the harder it may be.  It's kind of nice to know that I will definitely have a baby by Tuesday or so.  I definitely made Friday my last day of work, so maternity leave can officially start without keeping my bosses guessing.  My mom can now schedule her flight out here instead of waiting to the last minute.  I actually am quite "done" with pregnancy at this point so having baby sooner rather than later is good.  I don't particularly want to sit around for a week of my maternity leave twiddling my thumbs waiting for a baby that may never come on its own - I'd much rather have a baby to hold. 

But as I understand it, induction can be pretty rough, especially on a body that apparently isn't quite ready for labor yet, and it can carry an increased risk of a C-section.  Anecdotally I've heard it makes labor come on harder and faster, increasing most womens' need for painkillers, which I'd been sort of hoping to avoid.  I think I'll call the doctor on Monday to go over my questions, now that I've had time to process it all.  Though I'm 99% sure I'll be going through with it no matter what he says.  I guess it's kind of my fault in the end for not asking enough questions along the way that could've prepared my for this, but it seriously never even entered the realm of possiblities in my mind, unless I was going to be getting close to 42 weeks.  Go figure. 

If you take all this news with the fact that I've been sick and barely able to breathe all week, it's really been an emotional couple of days, and it's shaping up to be quite the emotional weekend as well.

In case anyone is into checking this daily by now, I wanted to add that there indeed have been some new happenings today, sort of.

I've been feeling mild contractions on and off all day, maybe false labor, but hey, it's something.  So, hopefully, things are finally moving!  Maybe this kid will come someday after all.  Not much else to report.  Hopefully the doctor will have some good news tomorrow.  I'll try to keep this updated!

Sure 'nuff, my belly is now all odd and angular and poking out in weird places when the baby moves.  I'd read that this happens, but truthfully never quite believed it.  Of course, I never really thought I'd look hugely pregnant and ready to pop either, but that happened, so I shouldn't be surprised at this.  It's pretty cool actually.  I've been trying to catch it on video, but so far no dice.  Baby Horne is apparently modest.  But it's fun for me to watch anyway, with my belly flopping from side-to-side when Baby H. wiggles his/her bony butt. 

Other than that, there's really no news to report.  No contractions, no pain, no water breaking or mucous plug unplugging, nix, nada, nope.  I guess Baby isn't done cooking yet.  Family and friends are all starting to call, just to say "hi", though I'm guessing it's more to snoop to see if I'm hospital-bound yet.  I don't really mind though; it's pretty endearing, and exactly what I do when someone I know is due any day.  I just feel a little bad when there's nothing to report. 

I do go back to the doctor's on Thursday, at which point I will certainly have them check to see if there's been any action Down Under.  Keep checking back...and keep your fingers crossed!

Oh, and I promised my friend Shannon I'd take a picture of my big tugboat feet for her.  So, should you be interested in my big swollen kicks, check out the photo album!

At this point in my pregnancy, I've realized I have to face certain facts.  The fact for today is, my belly is now very big.  Which begs the question (since most of you aren't seeing me grow in person): "HOW big IS it?"  Well, it's SO big that:

1)  I now officially have the pregnant woman's equivalent of "Plumber's Butt".  I can't seem to keep my pants up, or my shirt down, which leads to a very frequent - and not always appropriate, especially when one is in a work environment - showing of "Naked Preggo Belly".  I can't even begin to count the number of times I had to yank my pants up and/or my shirt down while waddling through the halls at work today.  Very annoying.

2)  People have officially stopped telling me "Oh, you look so cute!", and have started saying "Wow, you look like you're ready to pop!...When are you due again?"  Then when I tell them in about a week and a half, they all give me a knowing look of "Ohhhh, that's why she's gigantic." 

3) I can now officially use my belly as a shelf.  It's pretty convenient, actually, to have an impromptu place to set down my water glass or dinner plate or to have a makeshift desk to write thank-you notes on. 

4)  I have officially decided that I'm ready to have this baby (yes, yes, I know this is a vast change in attitude from two days ago), purely for the reason that I'm darn sick of carrying around a watermelon with me every second of every day. 

And,

5) When I look in the mirror these days, I officially get the impression that I'm now obnoxiously large and in charge.  My belly precedes me wherever I go.