I like last night's photo better, as I had to take my own tummy pic today, as Nick let me sleep in. For reasons you will see below.
So the tummy picture, taken in the bathroom mirror, is not exactly the way I wanted to document 40 weeks. But you do what you can.But before launching into my story, thank you all so much. I just LOVE all the stories you shared. Thank you, really. They were all little birthday presents and Betty and I had such a good time reading them.
However, I commented back to very few because we read many of them on my BlackBerry during our four or so hours at the hospital yesterday.
NOT because I was having a baby - no! But because the minute Betty arrived at my house with a bag of chocolate bars and a lovely purple orchid!, I realized I was bleeding.
Which caused my OB to direct me straight to the hospital.
Where they gave me the biggest maxi-pad on the planet, in order to monitor the blood business, and hooked me up for a non-stress test and a contraction-measuring monitor.
The baby, his heartbeat is awesome. And I was having mild and completely random contractions. Who knew?
They then sent me downstairs for an ultrasound and a biophysical profile of the kid.
On a stretcher. I got wheeled everywhere. Not a palanquin, but close!
The little dude looks to be extremely healthy. Everything they measured was totally normal and good and strong. Also, his testicles are huge.
The ultrasound woman asked if I know the gender, and I said, "Yah, a boy."
She replied, "Oh, it's quite a boy all right. I was just didn't know if you'd wanted to know. Look. His legs are apart. We call this the turtle view."
Much like looking at clouds, you could see how they decided the view from above (below?) was a turtle shell and head poking forward.
So he passed all these tests, and they did some more heart monitoring. And said they still didn't know why I was bleeding, but it was tapering, and so they offered me two options.
One: be induced, likely have a long labor, and stick around until I finally had a baby.
Two: go home, have my birthday dinner (because yes, I kept asking) and in all likelihood return to throw it up while in labor later.
I chose option two. With the signed promise to return if there was any more bleeding, contractions, decreased fetal movement. And the hope of launching into labor.
There was none of the above. Which didn't mean I wasn't up every hour checking. Which is why Nick snuck out early, leaving me in exhausted sleep.
So for my birthday, I rocked those platforms, had a fantastic dinner, and really, really loved my birthday start to finish. Even with the hospital bits.
And now it's Friday, and if you could think good, healthy, pro-labor (sounds so British politics, doesn't it?) thoughts for us, I'd really appreciate it.
And if I am having a baby, I will certainly let you know.
I so appreciate you caring about us and checking in regularly. Happy weekend, all!