Enjoy our final day being a family of two and (try to) patiently wait for 5:30pm when we head to the hospital to start our induction process.
Likely the least patient person you have ever met.
Today started like any other.
I woke up to my 5:00am alarm (because I am an insane person).
I made a cup of coffee using the tea kettle/french press method I have grown to really love and appreciate.
I annoyed Dizzy by turning lights on in the living room where she had been sleeping all night.
I put my pants on one leg at a time (albeit, i did put them on backwards initially … and they were jeans … i put jeans on backwards … let that sink in).
unlike every other morning, though, this morning will be the last that I spend in my home without a newborn baby taking up residence.
that’s right friends. today is the day we go in for our induction to get Lil’ D safely landed on the ground.
Today is a day we have been wishing for since finding out, nine weeks ago, that she was measuring in the 4th-percentile: launching us into a series of high-risk pregnancy appointments, weekly non-stress tests and biophysical profiles, and being grateful, each week, that she had made it one week closer to her due date.
Our little iugr-baby has plugged along and continued to get A+ marks on all of her tests. She squeaked into the 5th percentile at her last growth scan and has made both of our doctors (and us!) breath a sigh of relief that she has reached the point where she, likely, won’t have to spend any time in the nicu.
even with all of those positive reviews, though, our doctors do not want me to go past 38-weeks pregnant for the safety of baby girl, which means we are heading into the hospital today - at 37-weeks - to get this little show on the road.
For the most part, it all seems entirely surreal.
This will be my last morning waking up at home without her sleeping next me.
the last morning I’m the first one to know she’s awake because she’s kicking me in the ribs or has her early-morning hiccups.
The last morning we are just a family of four (because the dogs totally count).
Today started just any other perfectly normal, regular, good ole’ fashioned day - like many hundreds of others before it.
I’ll allow myself to believe that while I still can (read: before the anxiety sets in).
sixteen deer enjoyed the chilly Spring early hours in our front yard this morning. We’ve been seeing this little herd roaming around our property over the last week or so, but we haven’t had the chance to watch so many of them so close to the house before.
It’s on mornings like this that I am so beyond grateful for our home and the beauty we get to experience all around us. I know it will be magical to be able to share this with Baby Girl.
Now that I’m not the only person awake in my house (and in my phone), waves of “holy S***!” rush over me intermittently.
These waves will soon be replaced with contractions (fingers crossed), but for now I’m just trying to take peaceful moments like the one presented to us this morning as signs that everything will be Ok.
for a brief moment, it was snowing outside. I believe good things always happen when it snows. I know most midwesterners won’t be in the same camp after the Winter we’ve experienced over the course of the last eight weeks, but I’m perfectly alright with not joining the “fun” of complaining about Winter … when I live in Wisconsin. Not to mention the fact that the amount of snow falling wouldn’t even fill the tiniest of snow globes.
If the deer aren’t complaining about the Winter we’ve had, I don’t think we have any room to either.
There are many moments in life when you feel like you are “entering a new chapter”, but this is truly one of those moments.
I have absolutely no idea what to expect from my life once the next ten hours have lapsed.
Because in ten hours, I’ll be in the Labor + delivery department, strapped to machines, getting induced and waiting for our girl to arrive safely in the outside world.
I have no clue how my world will change in a matter of hours.
that is an equally un-nerving and totally exciting feeling to experience.
For now, I’m going to take a morning nap, marathon watch Season 1 of vanderpump rules, and pretend like I have everything under control.
Well my Vanderpump Rules Marathon is over and now Tardy for the Party is on and I just can’t with that show (yes, I do realize the audacity of the bar I have for judging reality television).
All of the laundry is folded and put away.
The dishwasher is empty.
I’ve anxiously eaten all of the fruit snacks in my house.
And I still have 3 hours to wait until we leave for the hospital. Good thing both pups are always willing to go for walks to keep my mind busy.
We’re scheduled for our induction at 6:30, but were instructed to call an hour ahead of time to make sure they aren’t too busy to get us in.
Guess who called and found out they’re too busy right now? This girl. We were asked to call back in another hour to see if they have worked their way through these admissions and can still have us come in.
The waiting continues ... Have I mentioned I’m not a very patient person?
The call has been made and we got the all-clear to make our way to the hospital.
Immediately upon hanging up, I felt like I was going to burst into tears and throw up all at the same time.
Luckily only the former happened.
The magnitude of how drastically different life will be in just a few hours became monumental.
The next time I would be in my house, I would have a daughter.
The next time I would see my dogs, I would have a daughter.
The next time I would drive down our street, I would have a daughter.
The next time I see a cow, I would have a daughter.
The next time I see the Roehl Fieldhouse about 0.5 miles from the hospital, I would have a daughter.
Everyone tells me I have no idea what will hit me when she is born and how I’ll suddenly wonder how I’ve lived my whole life without her.
For now, I’m just totally freaking out a little and stress-eating a bag of pretzels on the way to the hospital.
We made it to the hospital and down to the Birth Center without anymore hysteria.
All of the nurses seem really nice and got me situated in an exam room while I wait for my room to finish being cleaned.
Room 2 is where all of the action will be happening..
“Get some rest tonight.” They said.
“The first few doses of Cytotec will be uneventful.” They said.
They were wrong.
Shortly after I took my first dose to get labor going the cramps began and Lil’ D got a little excited causing a series of three nurses to run in, readjust the monitors, and tell me I’m to stay laying on my right side because the baby didn’t like it when I laid on my back or my left.
She’s calling the shots now.
Let the games begin.
Are you ready for it?
Taylor Swift might be, but I am not so sure I am.