Thanks to a few alarming incidents of painful, menstrual-like cramps (always in the wee hours wherein a discussion such as the following ensues: Me: "Honey I'm cramping. What should we do?" Dave (rubbing my back): "Call the midwives." Me: "Should we call the ferry line?" Dave: "Call the midwives." Me: "Should we wait and see if they get worse?" Dave: "Call the midwives." Me: "I don't know what to do.") and one midnight trip to the ER at 26 weeks, the midwives have recommended I be put on "pelvic rest" until I'm full-term (37 weeks). The ER visit is a blog unto itself...let's just say my anxiety surrounding hospitals was not assuaged and I'm pretty sure the guy in the room next to me was in the first stages of zombie flu.
A fetal fibronectin test (swab requiring an non-lubed metal speculum...midwife hugged me afterward) reassured us that I wouldn't be going into labor in the next two weeks (fetal fibronectin is a chemical your body starts secreting before labor. If its present, look out below; if not, you can pretty much rest assured a preemie is out of the question for the next few weeks). However, to err on the side of caution, because painful Braxton-Hicks contractions are rare in first-time pregnancies (look at all my facts!), its pelvic rest for me.
And what exactly is pelvic rest? Is it as fun as its distant and more widely-known cousin, bed rest? Pelvic rest means I should be taking it easy, not riding bikes, and not ah-hem, doing what got me in this condition in the first place. With one added specific stipulation: no orgasms. Who gets medically advised against orgasms?? This girl.
Also anything I'm doing, if my uterus starts tightening, pain or no, I'm supposed to stop, drink water and lay down. Well my uterus has been tightening regularly for a couple of months now. Braxton-Hicks contractions are the common term, and have been described as "practice" contractions for the big event. (If that's the case, my body has passed the dress rehearsal stage and my labor and delivery is going to be like a tired old Broadway show in its millionth season. The cast will just be going through the motions, singing the songs, bored but effortless. I'll have the
Cats of birth experiences.)
All this pelvic resting has left me feeling mainly bored. I have just enough leeway to start doing something (painting baby furniture, taking a walk, doing laundry, hanging pictures etc) and have to stop. Or, as I'm more apt to, finish what I'm doing and be increasingly uncomfortable. I dislike being unable to do things. "Taking it easy" is not fun when its enforced. It leads to things like sobbing for a 3-hour Animal Cops- Phoenix marathon, procrastinating writing this very blog, feeling guilty for not practicing my Hypnobirthing exercises, and analyzing with growing horror the steady influx of cellulite and flab on my ass (all things I've accomplished today).
Meanwhile, the kid continues to kick me in his spazzy little way (powpowpow, rest, powpowpow, reeeeeeessssssst, POWPOWPAPAPAPOW!!!, rest, repeat) and get hiccups at least 3 times a day. Clearly his life is sailing right along, totally unaffected by my grievances.
Which I guess, after all, is the point.
*title credit to Kelly Wright-Pedersen of Kelly's Video Blog fame
