(Who doesn’t love R.E.M?)
This morning was the ob appointment the husband and I were supposed to go to if the little oyster didn’t show up between Tuesday’s appointment and last night. She didn’t, so off we went at 9:10 this morning only to hear that she hasn’t moved closer to the light since Tuesday and there was a ton of protein in my 24 hour tinkle test so today is the day! My ob called the hospital, they are expecting us later this afternoon, and the little oyster will be induced. Or I’ll be induced. Whatever. Potato-potahto.
After a routine you’re-two-days-late exam, the husband and I settled in for a little fetal monitoring at the ob’s office. While the oyster slept and gave a curiously steady heart rate read-out, the husband and I feverishly texted parents, siblings, coworkers, and dogsitters extraordinaire to bring them up to date.
Since the hospital isn’t expecting us until later this afternoon, and since we considered the heads-up at 9:30 the gift of time, we made the most of our day. Talked to the pediatrician’s office again, went out to lunch, stopped at Barnes and Noble so I have magazines, got the husband a haircut, and came home to cuddle and coddle the cutest pet on the Hill. (Who, by the way, totally knows something is going on. His behavior last night should have been a heads-up to us but I didn’t want to get my hopes up.) In a little bit we’ll walk to the post office to mail our bills and encourage the little oyster to keep moving.
Next we’re putting Dietrich and our bags (repacked and streamlined) in the car, dropping the pup at one friend’s house to be picked up there by another later, and heading to the hospital. Updates to follow, depending on how fast the Pitocin works.
This truly is the end of the world as we know it. And I feel fine.