This is my weapon, this is my gun. One is for shooting, the other for fun

     So, as most of you know, I was pregnant when my husband left for Basic Training and AIT.  I worried myself sick most of the time he was gone that something would happen and I would go into premature labor before he was home. It was cutting it kind of close but he did manage to make it home ten days before I went into labor. I greeted him at the airport in my nicest pair of sweatpants and the only maternity top I had left that didn’t show more than an inch of my belly.

As happy as I was to have him home, and as much as I would have liked a longer “re-integration” period with him before bringing another person into our home, I was miserable. I wanted that baby out two weeks ago. Every night it seemed like a different person I knew would go into labor leaving me to sit at home on the couch crying that my baby was “never coming out.”

In honesty I had no right being so impatient, after all- he wasn’t due for almost 6 more weeks. But I was a whale! When I sat down my belly nearly touched my knees. I was the biggest pregnant woman ever known to man! I had started waddling at like 14 weeks pregnant. Not to mention the fact that I had been puking from the day I found out I was pregnant up until the night I went into labor. This was for the birds! I was done!

In case you don't believe I really was the biggest preggo ever. Here are pictures of me with Nathan. The first being 32 weeks and the second being 35 weeks.

We had a trip planned that weekend to go a couple hours north to see David’s dad. I did not want to go. I was miserable, trapped in my own body-plus I was convinced that we couldn’t go that far away because I was going to go into labor at any second. But, I did not get a say in the matter, at my husband’s insistence we went.

We went up on a Saturday morning and planned to stay through Monday morning. We spent the entire day Sunday riding 4-wheelers through the snow and had a ton of fun, but by that night I was a mess! I just knew that baby was coming! I convinced David to take me home that night where nothing happened.

Monday afternoon I had a doctor’s appointment where I told him how miserable I was. He suggested a membrane stripping {for those of you who don’t know what that is I’ll spare you the gory details}. After my appointment I nearly skipped out of his office just convinced that in a few hours I’d be holding my little bundle of joy.

We went to my husband’s grandparent’s house where my husband needed to fill out college applications. By he I mean me, and as I sat there filling in his date of birth and SSN I felt a strange twinge.

Could it be???

I dismissed it and went back to typing until it happened again.

“David” I yelled to the front of the house. “David!!!”

He wasn’t coming…so I waddled two rooms over with the intention of hitting him over the head for ignoring me and making me waste ten minutes trying to get out of my chair. I peered around the corner and asked him to come in the other room.

He told me to hold on a minute so I waddled back to the computer and got back to work.

It happened again!!

I was getting so excited. I screamed for my husband once more, who still wasn’t coming. GRR. I knew I’d have to waddle back in there.  Fast forward ten minutes -I had finally gotten out of my chair when David FINALLY appeared in the doorway. I was just opening my mouth to yell at him when it happened a  4^th time. I grabbed my stomach and sat back down. It took a few moments to pass and I explained to my darling husband what was going on.

Like a flash he was gone. I could hear him in the living room excitedly reporting to his grandparents what was happening and I was forgotten about. I finished up on the computer and retrieved my husband from the living room telling him we needed to get home so that I could tie up some loose ends.

Once we got home the pain’s finally died down to nothing but disappointment.  I chalked it up to Braxton Hicks. The next morning we went back to the doctor where he did a second membrane stripping. Ten minutes after we left I started feeling contractions again only this time they hurt a lot worse. I told my husband that once we got home he had to figure out how to install the baby’s car seat in the truck while I took a nap {pregnant delegation is the best!}.

I rested for about 2 hours, unable to actually fall asleep.  I gave up and went to go pee. I told my husband that the pains had stopped and I guess tonight wasn’t going to be the night either. He called his mother to let her know what was going on and she gave us a list of things that were supposed to induce labor. I jumped on that list!

Suggestion #1- Gallop

Easy enough, right? Well, to anyone that has ever successfully galloped at 8 months pregnant without peeing on yourself a little- I applaud you. Meanwhile all I was doing was throwing my back out. Time to move on…

Suggestion #2- Drink Castor Oil

Nope. Not that desperate.

Suggestion #3- Eat pineapple

This was no problem. I had just bought a huge jar of it a few days ago. I sat down and ate the entire thing. Then I ate a sandwich just for good measure.

Suggestion #4-Nipple Stimulation

Neither one of us really knew what that meant. Do you squeeze them, twist them, rub them, lick them? Was there an art to this? The only thing that we really knew was that if my nipples so much as came in contact with anything-including my bra- I would start leaking milk. So I flicked each nipple twice and checked it off my list.

Suggestion #5- Take a walk

This was my favorite one. After all, I always loved taking walks. However, it was a February night in Wisconsin and there had just been an ice storm leaving the streets and sidewalks slicked with glare ice. But I was in this to win this and made my husband begrudgingly bundle up and take a walk with me.

Let me just take a moment to say that my husband truly was a trooper those last ten days he was home. Just the night before he had helped me rewash every dish we owned and reline all the cupboards because I told him it needed to be done for “the baby”. Now here he was skating down the sidewalk with me in negative 20 degree weather.

 Suggestion #6- Have sex

Now , those of you who were paying attention may be wondering why I had claimed that taking a walk was my favorite item on the list. Here is where we get into the nitty, gritty….Dad, you can stop reading here!!

Remember  me telling you I was the biggest pregnant woman ever known to mankind? This was no exaggeration. It still surprises me that I was able to walk at all {much less get out and shovel the sidewalk every time it snowed!} I was also carrying my son very low which was putting an ungodly amount of pressure on my lady parts thus leaving me swollen {for lack of better of better words}.

Upon my husbands’ arrival home the week before, we were obviously anxious to re-consummate our marriage {he had been gone for 6 months after all!} So I stripped off my sweatpants and stood there allowing him to drool over my granny panties and stretch marks as we deliberated how it was exactly that we were going to go about doing this. Long story short… the pressure and swelling made it anything but enjoyable; at one point I wondered if he got confused and actually stuck his whole leg up there. And to add insult to injury, I couldn’t stop squirting breast milk which was horrifying to me at that point in my life (I have since lost all shame). That said, I decided that it would be best if we put a hold on all coital relations until after our son was born.

So here I was once again in my granny panties contemplating the physics of how exactly we were going to pull this feat off. I obviously couldn’t lay on my back because I would have been crushed alive by my own weight. I couldn’t lay on my right side because I would get too dizzy and I worried I’d pass out; and when I laid on my left side the pain caused by the pressure on my sciatic nerve about launched me into outer space. I certainly wasn’t going to get on top because I didn’t have the strength to hold myself and the extra 400 pounds I had gained up which left one option open….

Well, actually it left several options open but I was in no position to be doing the “Flying Monkey“ or the “Paul Bunyan Flapjack” which left us with the only other practical position left. Doggie style.

I had to pee first, of course and when I got back I found my husband waiting for me. With a sigh I stripped off my oh-so-sexy underwear and braced myself for it. It was everything I expected it to be and with tears in my eyes I just reminded myself that I was taking one for team Nathan. I can do this I repeated over and over in my head as I realized I had to pee again.

Figuring I could hold it, I didn’t mention it to my husband because I didn’t want to slow this process down. But as any pregnant woman knows: when you have to pee, you have to pee NOW! With no warning I leapt from the bed and ran to the bathroom before I peed on myself.

After relieving myself I waddled back to the bedroom to find my husband, now dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking quite green and refusing to make eye contact with me. He told me he was thinking and decided that we shouldn’t try and hurry this up and that the baby was going to come when God wanted him to. My translation was that he thought I was repulsive.

“PLEASE!!!” I begged. He just didn’t know how desperate I was to have this baby. But he continued to refuse.

By this point I was wailing. I knew everything he said about me being a sexy pregnant woman was a lie! I was disgusting! I was so awful he couldn’t even close his eyes and imagine I was Megan Fox.

At this point my poor husband was so torn. On the one hand he wanted to preserve my self-image as he watched my turn into a blubbering mess, yet on the other hand he couldn’t bear to tell me the truth.

After a good hour of listening to me cry he finally told me that when I had left to go to the bathroom he had noticed something on his little soldier, describing it to resemble a large booger.

It was my mucus plug!

Now while most women would have been mortified, I started laughing because I was just so relieved to find out I wasn’t an ugly, un-porkable fatty. He wasn’t laughing however. He actually still looked very concerned and was not giving in to any of my requests to finish the job.

I begged for several hours, and it wasn’t until I continued begging him while we showered that he agreed so long as we kept the water running just in case he needed to hose off .

Stay posted to my next blog to find out if it worked!