TB3 is the size of a ukulele.
Y’all, I’m still pregnant. Didn’t see that coming. I thought for sure TB3 would be here by now. This week, my church birthed a new location. TD1 turned 8. But, I did not birth a new baby.
This has been a painful week and ended with me in Labor and Delivery until 3am. I didn’t “feel” in labor, but I was also experiencing back pain and pressure like you wouldn’t believe. I didn’t want to go to the hospital. But as luck would have it, my aunt happened to be at the house because she was doing the TDs’ hair. She and T-Daddy convinced me to take advantage of not having to wake the girls if in fact I was in labor. Worst case, they said, I wouldn’t be in labor but at least I’d know for sure.
So off to the hospital T-Daddy and I went. They hooked me up to monitor contractions and baby. They checked my cervix. Contractions weren’t regular. I was still 1.5cm dilated and TB3 was only 50% down. I had two options – stay and walk for two hours to see if things progressed or go home and call them if anything changed. I looked over and T-Daddy was knocked out. If I stayed, I’d be walking the halls alone, so I told them I wanted to go home.
And my spirit broke. I don’t understand why it has to be so painful. Why aren’t things progressing? We are at about 3 weeks of non-stop pain. And TB3 isn’t here. I cried. And cried some more. I knew I couldn’t deal with questions or people. So I put my phone on Do Not Disturb and I Netflix’d and slept. I checked in with my therapist, but other than that I kept to myself. No social media. No texts. No emails. No phone calls. It was a much-needed Mental Health Day.
And now, I’m bringing in Week 39 much better than I left Week 38.