38 Weeks Pregnant and Crabby

Warning: this is not a pleasant post.  I hate being pregnant.  I seriously do.  This is my third baby, and I have not enjoyed a single pregnancy.  Really, it’s a necessary evil since I’ve yet to find an incubator that will grow my kid.  Other than me, of course.  So by the time 38 weeks pregnant rolls around, I’m fairly miserable.  With Andy, I never made it to 38 weeks pregnant.  I had him at 37 weeks pregnant on the nose.  With Norton, I had a c-section at 38 weeks and four days.

I am presently 38 weeks and 2 days.  I have been having prodromal labor for 13 days now.  Thirteen days.

It’s seriously impacting my mental state.  I’m miserable, I’m cranky, I’m short tempered, and I hate everyone right now.  I’m not even feeling fond maternal feelings for the parasite.  If anything, I’m angry at her because she won’t get out.  I’m seriously becoming resentful of being pregnant with no end in sight.  And since weaning off of my antidepressants for Eudora’s benefit, I am quite frankly becoming extremely depressed about this entire situation.

Yes, Norton was a rough pregnancy.  Polyhydramnios (excessive amniotic fluid, which was due to my gestational diabetes) and an irritable uterus left me severely distended.  I’d had two failed inductions before a cesarean, but at least there was an end in sight.  After those two failed inductions, I was scheduled a cesarean.

The lack of the end in sight this time is my own fault, of course.  I could have an ending guaranteed in five days.  I could go ahead and request a repeat cesarean instead of going for a VBAC delivery.  But no.  We’re doing Hypnobabies, the husband wants to actually see his child being born, et cetera.  There will be no c-section or induction unless it’s medically necessary.  And I do not consider my admittedly deteriorating mental state to be a medically necessary cause for induction.  As long as I’m still alive and not self-harming, then I’m just miserable.  Being miserable isn’t a suitable reason.

And whenever I start hearing “suggestions” to get her out, I want to just scream at them.  Considering how miserable I am right now, does anyone seriously think I’m just sitting back and patiently waiting?  I’ll spare you the details on how frequently the husband and I spend some, uh, “alone time” together.  Yes, I’ve been drinking the red raspberry leaf tea.  Yes, I’m taking the evening primrose oil capsules.  No, I’m not walking like crazy because I have symphysis pubis dysfunction, and if I do to much walking I find myself in so much pain when I lie down for the night that I can’t sleep.  Or sit.  Or do anything but cry, for that matter.  No, I’m not doing castor oil.  I’m attempting a VBAC delivery.  The last thing that I need is something so bad nasty that it gives contractions strong enough to cause a uterine rupture.

This might be far less frustrating, of course, if not for the prodromal labor.  This is day 13 of having contractions that are increasing in strength and frequency, only to stop when I lie down.  And after the miserable, horrible exam I had after going to the hospital because I thought I was leaking amniotic fluid, I have no further desire to go back unless it’s guaranteed that I’m really having a baby.

Get out, Eudora.  Please.

Written 2 days ago, but posted now.  And I’m still pregnant.

About Suzi

Suzi is an American ex-pat living in British Columbia. She's a cloth diaper addict, wife, mom of three, and President of the Prince George chapter of Cloth for a Cause.


  1. Oy! I feel your pain! I was just writing today about how much pregnancy sucks.


    You know, because… well.. it does.

    It’s all going to be over soon! You can do it!

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