You silly little pickle, you silly little bean....

Sometimes Veggie Tales say it best:

Keep walking, but you won't knock down our wall.
Keep walking. But she isn't gonna to fall!
It's plain to see, your brains are very small...
To think walking, will be knocking down our wall.


I went to the midwife this morning fully in expectation that she would say: "Wow! Miracle of miracles! You are four centimeters, let's rush you to the hospital!"

But NOOOOOOoooooooOOOO. Instead, I was left to my own devices in a closet sized room for about a half hour to peruse the gigantic posters of the female reproductive system complete with way-too-graphic bubbles that explain the gory inner workings of your every day sexually transmitted diseases. Yum. After that, all I could think about was how weird it was that anyone, knowing that those things exist and you could possibly catch them, would want to do anything but abstain from sex until they had met and married someone who was as free of those as they were. Basically, I decided I was no longer in support of any type of sex ed other than forcing teenagers to sit and stare at charts like these for long periods of time.

I also noted with great sadness how many times the chart said: "Women experience more discomfort. Only women may show symptoms. Women are at higher risk. Etc, etc." Women really get rolled when it comes to STDs. Half of them, men aren't even aware they are carrying! I had my bible with me and I noted how many times the Lord reminds women to be chaste. Purity is a hugely stressed biblical theme for women--- gee, I wonder why. The whole experience made me so incredibly grateful that God protected me through all the insanity of my teenage and college years.

Anyways, the midwife checked me and told me I was..... still 2 cm. Not even 3 yet. WHAT?????
When she saw the visibly distressed-- almost crying-- look on my face, she immediately moved into the "let's see what could be happening here" phase, which consisted of some very well placed questions: "Does it hurt mostly here?" (pushes on my lower belly pelvic region) DUh!
She suggested wearing a maternity belt to get some of the pressure off my bladder and pelvic region since baby's head is now fully engaged. She then spent about twenty minutes apologizing for hurting me as she poked, cranked, and prodded me with large cotton swabs and wierd metal scrap-y objects. She took the resulting tissues and swipes to her office to look under a microscope and returned rejoicing: "You have a bacterial infection that is causing the contractions to be stronger than they really are!"

well, that's great. But what does that mean? It means that though the contractions are PRODUCTIVE in the sense that they are opening my cervix, they are not as strong as the pain they are producing in me on the painscale. I've just been blessed with the ability to experience very strong contractions while NOT having very strong contractions. Weeee.

She prescribed me an antibiotic of some kind which will clear up the infection, which should make the contractions more tolerable until ACTUAL hard labor begins. This gives me some semblance of hope that I will be in a little less pain and thus able to recuperate so that I can re-strengthen for ACTUAL labor. (I read in a magazine today that the best prep for a good labor was to be well rested. Good news for someone who hasn't had more than four hours sleep a night since October!! I also read that one doctor often explains to husbands that it is similar to being forced to push a grand piano across a room with no help, thus explaining all the huffing and puffing and yelling.)
With that in mind, she also prescribed me a painkiller which I'm going to break down and take so that I can sleep at night...she says that it will knock me out and I'm at the point where I'm ok with that.

I'm going to pick up some acidophilus to avoid the usual repercussions of taking antibiotics and I'm also going to spend a good deal of time just connecting with Ishod and trying to work with him to get this process over with, to minimize the post-delivery problems I enjoyed last time (and they were really, really fun) being made worse by the amount of time it's taking to get him out.

Mostly, I'm just going to rest in the arms of my Savior.