i had already completed another non-stress test and since oliver passed it this time, we were able to skip an ultrasound. i had survived what felt like a couple of anxiety attacks coming on by raising my arms over my head while i sat in the recliner watching an episode of starting over. now that my last appointment was almost out of the way, the next thing to be dealt with on the list was the IV and the the epidural. just typing that makes me feel like i need to poo. perhaps that's just my celebratory frappuccino talking.
she tried to assure me that neither was painful and i tried to assure her it’s not so much the pain that freaks me out, but just the sheer idea of it. and, in all likelihood, i won’t have the motivation of painful contractions removing the angst of the pricks.
in case the IV and the epidural and the urinary catheter and the threat of poo on the table and, oh yeah, the process of pushing a human being out of my cooter for hours on end isn’t insult upon injury enough, she told me that they will offer me an enema before the show gets started. yet another reason to cross my legs for an induction... so i can eat like a hummingbird tomorrow and top it off with full-blown caffeinated beverages in the evening to clear out any anal debris in the manner that God intended. even the doctor said she opted out of the enema before her own delivery and tried to convince me poo on the table is no shock to them. she even tried to say that it means i’m doing something right (pushing that is... not pooing in her face).
after the NST was completed, it was time for one last exam. in went the fingers as i tried once again to scramble off the table. i even managed to accidentally grab her hand (the one not intimately involved in the examination). i later learned she had done a partial sweep of my membranes... something i was certain my doctor would have the compunction to never do without asking first. but i suppose what i’ve read really is true: doctors will sweep without permission and often not even tell the patient. a dirty trick indeed.
i verified she had not poked a hole in anything while she was up there since i’m now at 2cm and very much effaced. the baby’s head is lingering only a half a finger’s length from the outside world and i began to feel i should be entered into the record books for pregnant lady most able to hang on to a baby with her uterus as i astounded members of the staff by still making it to my appointment with baby entact and only holding on by the grace of God.
since i’m not eating tomorrow, i’m off tonight for one last supper at cosmic cafe before doomsday hits. everyone clasp your hands and pray that my poo plan manifests and that i don’t experience any psychosis from all of the needles that are about to come at me. pray, little monkeys, pray.