more effaced than last week and a tiny bit more dilated—like one centimeter instead of "just a smidge over not at all." Nevertheless, my historically psychic obstetrician thinks I'm not likely to give birth until sometime after my due date. Probably not TEN days late, but probably not "on time" or "early." It took eating two rolls of Rolos to cheer myself up from this news, and I use that phrase loosely. I'm still pretty bummed. Two more weeks of this nonsense?
On the upside, the Rolos were free because the OB was running late and the nurse felt really bad for me for having to sit there half naked on an uncomfortable exam table for a full hour, so she gave me a little handmade coupon that she said I could redeem at the front desk for either a parking voucher or a Starbucks gift card. "The girls at the front desk will know what to do with it." Since the doctor didn't arrive in the examining room for another ten minutes, I had plenty of time to decide what I would choose.
Starbucks gift card?
The idea of coffee still makes me hurl, BUT, in a matter of weeks—maybe even days—I will SO be making up for all that lost time. There's nothing like being made nauseous by your favorite treat to remind you that you are, in fact, pregnant and that pregnancy does, in fact, suck. What better way to celebrate the end of this ordeal (for once and for all because after this I am NOT HAVING ANY MORE BABIES) than with Seattle's most famous (even if not the best) latte?
When I gave the coupon to one of the girls/women at the front desk, however, she did not ask whether I preferred to be compensated with parking garage time or caffeine. Instead she handed me four crisp one dollar bills, which felt super weird. Like she was paying me for my urine sample or for my time—four dollars for eighty minutes? That's as bad as jury duty pay! Anyway, I bought some Rolos and rented five movies from the video store (can you believe I've never seen the original Footloose? Me neither), and I'm going to attempt to take this one day at a time. And because my OB is out of town until Monday and I desperately want her to be the person who delivers my baby, a large part of me is actually hoping I don't go into labor in the next five days. Which is some kind of consolation, I guess.
photo courtesy marykbaird, morgueFile