I love my new doctor. She’s really professional but still very nice. Young with two kids — ages one and three — and thus attuned to what I’m currently going through. But right now I really hate her.

Yesterday at my 36-week appointment, she said that baby’s head is fully engaged and that I am dilated to 2 centimeters. Neither of these things necessarily means anything, especially since I’ve been dilated at least a centimeter for at least a few weeks. But she did say that she doesn’t think I’ll make it past my due date and then said that if I go into labor this weekend, to call her. As I was leaving she said, “I’ll see you in one week, if not before.”

HELLO?! Now I am so excited I can hardly stand it and I am spending all my time trying to interpret every little feeling I’m having waiting for it to be the real thing. This is so unfair. Poor Brian, who would like baby to come as soon as humanly possible, is also tortured by this. He came home a bit early from work yesterday because he was too preoccupied to get anything done.

On the one hand, we rationally know that dilation and engagement don’t necessarily mean that labor is imminent. On the other, we really trust this doctor and keep thinking that she wouldn’t say what she said if she didn’t actually think there was a chance I’d be going into labor soon. I mean, she’s an OB-GYN; she knows how fragile pregnant women and their spouses are and how excited and scared labor makes us! She wouldn’t casually toss out things like “call me if you go into labor this weekend” capriciously, would she?

So we’re getting everything finalized — we finally put the hospital bag in Brian’s car, we’re going to hang things on the walls in baby’s room at last, we bought a changing pad cover and did all of baby’s laundry — you know, just in case. : )


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