I was actually expecting a totally routine doctor visit today, where maybe we’d laugh about all the preterm worries of the past few weeks and she’d tell me I was fine and I wouldn’t see the doctors again until our next appointment in 2 weeks.

Yeah, not so much.

Same deal as last time, really. I told the doctor that I was feeling a lot of pressure in my pelvis since yesterday, and asked if the baby might have dropped already. Long, more-info-than-you-need story shorter, I seem to be having some changes that indicate that, while I’m not about to go into labor this minute, things are starting to move toward that direction. They did another FFN and another NST and sent me over to the hospital for more monitoring. Pretty much the same as last week, except Law & Order wasn’t on yet, so I had to watch Jeff Corwin, which is fine by me. Gave me a shot of terbutaline, confirmed that the FFN was negative again, and sent me home.

So. I’m back on the anti-contraction meds–the ones that made me sleep, like 20 hours a day. Which is okay, now, because I’ve also been informed that I need to “stay off my feet” for the next three weeks. She didn’t actually use the word “bedrest,” but she did say that things like grocery shopping are definitely off my agenda for the next three weeks.

(You’d think this might help with the dissertating, but I can tell you already that it really probably won’t. I’m hoping to get something else written soon, but I’m not thinking that the enforced resting is going to do much to break through this huge wall I’ve hit with the diss.)

So there you have it. Same story, different week. As always, I appreciate all good wishes in advance. Oh–good news is that the L&D nurses tell me that H. looks “beautiful” on the monitors–his heartrate seems good and he doesn’t seem affected by the (apparently more regular and strengthening) contractions. So that rocks.

Anyway. Y’all know where to find me. Bring on the Scrabulous (if it ever comes back up)!