Lorelai Renée Sokol
November 2, 2005
20 1/4 inches
8 pounds 6 ounces
It’s time! I’m at the maternity center waiting for baby. I just got my epidural so now that I’m not so cranky I thought I’d share the news. Our newest addition will be joining us later this afternoon. She’s a bit ahead of schedule, but I’m so glad to be nearing the end.
I’m watching my Season 3 DVD of Gilmore Girls as we await the arrival of our own Lorelai. It’s nice to have something to take my mind off the pain, which is now nearly non-existent thanks to the happy drugs.
I’ll post pictures later—after the birth, of course, because anything else would just be gross.
I had my final doctor’s appointment today. My doctor is on vacation so we visited “the train doctor” as my toddler called her substitute, Dr. Trainor. She’s on call for the next two days so she stripped the membranes in hopes of kick-starting labor. It was so not a fun process, but I’m hoping it works.
Basically, the doctor shoves her hand inside and pulls the water sack away from the cervix. Believe me, it is as painful as it sounds. I’ve been having contractions for the last 2 hours now though, so if it works it was all worth it. They are about 3 minutes apart, which would concern a lot of people, but they are not strong at all. The on-call doctor said to sit tight for now and head to the hospital if I feel like they are changing.
They have internet access there, so I’ll be sure to update if this goes anywhere.
I’m still here. Still pregnant. Still desperately wishing it were over now, though I’m dreading the questions I’ll be getting soon.
Stacia is almost 8 now—a far cry from the 4 year old she was the last time I went through this. I’m going to have to answer the question with a bit more than “from love.” She’s smarter than that by now.
We have already had the occasional “How’s the baby going to come out?” question, but managed to gloss it over with a trip to the maternity center and reminder of the doctors who will help the baby come out. It’s only a matter of time before she actually asks where the baby will come out of. That’s going to be a fun conversation filled with what is sure to be a way-too-detailed description on the pain of contractions—something “akin to doing the splits on a crate of dynamite.”
We’ve always tried to use proper terms for things, but discovering that the vagina—or as our toddler calls it, despite our proper vocabulary, her front butt—has a purpose other than peehole is going to be quite a shock.
I’m never getting grandchildren.
My mom drived me to Grandma’s again. We were drawing at Grandma’s, but I didn’t take the colors or the color books. Wednesday Grandma was leaving without me and Linda. Then I was watching a movie at Grandma’s house with Grandpa. I was sitting with Grandpa and I was watching my show. We also eat some donuts. That was my breakfast, but Grandpa eat them all.
We are officially scheduled for induction on November 8th. However, I’m convinced there is no way this kid will stay in there that long. Today’s ultrasound measurements have estimated baby’s weight at 8 pounds. 8 pounds. At 36 weeks. Granted, it could be off by a pound—in either direction—so it’s possible she’s only 7 pounds. Then again she could already be larger than the last one was at birth. If she continues to grow at the expected rate of 1/2 pound per week, she would be one, big toddler by 40 weeks.
I am 3 cm dilated which is a bit scary to me considering my first two births. I was induced both times and went from 2 to 10 cm in under 2 hours. My doctor says I could go literally any day now, but she is hoping everything will hold off until I’m at least 37 weeks, which is this Saturday. I, however, would really like for her to deliver my baby. She leaves for vacation Saturday morning and will not return until the night before our scheduled date.
Either way, I’ll keep you posted. The new maternity center has internet access so the laptop is definitely on the list of things to bring. I did have to promise my mother she would get to hold the baby before I post pictures online. Though hubby thinks it will be hysterical to send camera phone pictures to everyone in the waiting room rather than actually going to tell them!
We’re all better around here—unless you count my constant heartburn, humongousness, and other unpleasantries as illness. I think I must have been ill when I decided to go through all this again, but I digress.
The toddler is feeling much better and making up for lost time. We can’t have an entire 24 hour period go by with peace and calm without some repercussions, you know. Maybe she suddenly realized she’ll be 3 soon and is trying to squeeze all the terrible out of 2’s at the last possible moment.
We had to put a lock on the pantry. A lock. On the food cabinet. That just seems so wrong somehow, but it’s better than my spiderman (woman?) falling off the top shelf because she wanted a different flavor of granola bars. It’s not like the kids’ favorite snacks aren’t conveniently placed at their level. There’s always something bigger and better on the top shelf.
Should I ask Mommy if I can have the strawberry granola bars? Should I tell her I want an apple? No, no, no. I should push this bench up to the pantry, grab the wire shelf and proceed to scale it as though I didn’t fall off the cabinet trying the same thing yesterday. Much better idea.
Thus, in the interest of elminating further ER trips for the year, I bought a new door knob. One that requires a key. Because we all know they can both unlock the inside doors. Heaven forbid I should go to the bathroom all alone and actually expect the door to remain locked. Though, I guess if I let her come with me every time she wouldn’t have the opportunity to climb to the top of the fridge.