This Monday marked the beginning of one of my least favorite medical aspects in pregnancy- the cervical checks.
I guess some people weather these checks easily without screaming and crawling backwards off the paper covered table, but I am not one of those folks. I find any checking in that vicinity to be excruciatingly painful, to the point that I have been dreading it for weeks and have considered taking pain medication in advance of a visit. Okay, just Tylenol, but still.
I hoped to myself on Monday morning that perhaps I'd exaggerated the whole event in my mind, but no such luck. It was very not fun, and to make matters worse, I didn't even get a teensy tiny bit of dilation to be happy about. I am 0% dilated. Nada. Nothing. I don't know why I'm surprised since it took me 40 weeks, 3 days, and 7 hours of pitocin to get me to one stinking centimeter. In a way, I'm relieved because my mom doesn't arrive until December 14th, and also I'm clearly not prepared to have this baby, but seriously, just a little progress would have been nice.
In preparation for the start of the cervical checks, Sunday night saw me contorting into strange positions in the bathroom, trying to deal with the bikini line situation. It wasn't pretty- neither the bikini area or the 36 weeks and 3 days preggo bending every which way trying to access that area. I used this to deal with the situation, and while I'm normally a HUGE fan and I've been using it for about a year now, it was shockingly more painful while pregnant. Maybe my pain tolerance just goes down in pregnancy? Or maybe I'm just a wimp? Who knows.
I'm just keeping my fingers crossed that I deliver the baby before I have to tackle the area again. 36 weeks is one thing. If this belly gets any bigger, I'm going to have to call in the husband reinforcements to assist me, and nobody wants that.