42 weeks

Today is the 42nd week of pregnancy and I am still pregnant. Yesterday we had an ultrasound scan to check baby's health and stability and scored a very robust 8 out of 8. In other words, baby is doing great, and I am too, and there is no reason to get concerned about anything until Monday, when they will want to do another test and check-in.

I know I should be used to these late babies by now. Finn was induced at 42 weeks and Poppie went to 42 weeks + 3 days naturally. This is my norm. But despite the fact that I am still well within my range of normal, the wait does not get any easier. It is not made any easier by the fact that in this country, very few babies even get a chance to gestate past 42 weeks because we are so induction-happy. Random strangers look at me like I am crazy when I tell them how far along I am. "Why aren't they inducing you?" the strangers ask. As if they (the doctors) are the holy grail of knowledge as the birth timing of my child. This little one doesn't want to come yet, is cozy in my womb and when things get unsustainable in there, s/he will come on out and join his siblings in our crazy and loving family.

Speaking of family, little brother Nick's wife Casi is my doula and she has traveled up to Seattle from Portland for the weekend to be near in case things really get going. And every other night for the past several nights, I was sure things were really getting going. The night before last I had 8 hours of consistently frequent contractions that kept me up and all of us thinking this was it. Only to have them peter out around 4 am. I am very dilated (4-5cm) and very effaced at the moment and pretty much feel like the baby could practically fall out if I jumped off the couch or something. It is that close.

But still we wait.