Yesterday was my doctor appointment with Santa, and the jolly old guy did not disappoint. He gave me a few high-fives during my appointment (which can be awkward when he is also in between your knees) and basically told me I was doing great. I think "great" is a technical term, but if you want me to get really detailed, here is what I learned.
(By the by, if you are of the male persuasion and NOT my husband, or if you are female and girly/pregnant-y type details gross you out, you may just want to skip this post and continue to think that Baby E is going to magically appear thanks to Leprechauns, space aliens or the Tooth Fairy. It will just be easier for all of us involved.)
I'm about 50% effaced, which means my cervix is thinning out -- and although the medical details for why this is necessary is still slightly fuzzy, I do know that it has to happen for the baby to be born and I'm halfway to 100% so that has to be good.
Next, Ben and I were right... Baby E HAS dropped. A lot. As in, when Santa was doing my internal exam he told me he was TOUCHING HER HEAD. As in, well, if HE could reach in and touch her head, I probably could too if I were so inclined to try (I'm not by the way). She is at a station minus-2, on a scale of -5 to 5 (5 being when her little head is popping out). A zero means she is "engaged" which means I'm in labor (hopefully) so I was thrilled that she really is starting to get into position.
Finally, the not so exciting news. I'm not dialated at all. Even with these other great pre-labor signs, not a darn thing is going to happen until I start dialating, so I'm trying to mentally coach my cervix to GET WITH THE PROGRAM. My doctor suggested walking at least 30 minutes a day. If that is going to get me to have this baby sooner rather than later, I'M ON IT. I sacrificed today at lunch and walked around the mall with a colleague who wanted to shop and I stood by while she purchased adorable clothes that didn't have waistbands made of ELASTIC and I turned green with envy at her ability to fit into clothing that doesn't look like a circus tent. It was torture for me, but it was also me standing and walking around for a good half hour, so that should tell you something about how badly I want this baby OUT OF MY BODY.
However, to keep this positive, Santa did tell me that he felt I would have the baby naturally and close to my due date, and hopefully I won't have to be induced (yeah!) Then again, he also guessed I was having a boy when he listened to the heartbeat (um, wrong there buddy) so Santa may not be the MOST qualified to guestimate my delivery. My next appointment is with THAT WOMAN (my actual doctor) next Thursday, so hopefully my lazy cervix will have done something by then and I'll have more news to report!