Whenever I’m about to see the midwives, I allow myself to believe in the unrealistic fantasy that they will decide I have had quite enough of this and say “let us take it out for you.” Of course they never do. In fact, they say very little at all. This is what most conversations look like:
Me: I’m really uncomfortable.
Midwife: The end is uncomfortable, yes.
Me: My back hurts.
Me: My pelvis hurts.
Midwife: Anything else?
Me: Did I mention my pelvis?
Midwife: See you next time!
This week was a little different as I demanded they do an internal exam and tell me exactly what is going on in there. Of course I didn’t actually demand, I asked very politely and they happily obliged. They even decided to strip my membranes while they were in the area. It was not pleasant.
As of Tuesday, I am 2 cm dilated and 50% effaced. I’m not exactly sure what this means. All I know is that I could easily be pregnant next week and into next Christmas.
Tomorrow will be 40 weeks. If I’m still pregnant by 6pm, we’ll be off to feast on the spiciest Indian food that I can possibly digest. Maybe we can smoke him out and he’ll be in that small percentage of people who are actually born on their due date. Here’s to hoping.