Baby D isn’t gonna just roll over and do what they are told evidently. This morning I have been poked, prodded, adjusted and meddled with inside and out.
In a rare moment of good taste I didn’t snap a lot of pictures, but allow me to take you back to the morning. For the first time in a few days I had somewhere to be at a certain time. And that time was not anywhere close to lunch. So, it seemed to wise to awaken somewhere between 3:30 and 4 am. By the time I hopped in the shower at six am my email was cleaned out, online banking reconciled and RSS feeds fully reviewed. Thank you, iPhone for giving the insomniac something to do instead of count sheep and stare at the ceiling.
The mini-me got off to school safe and sound and MQD and I headed out to the first of our appointments. I have always been an outspoken believer in alternative Eastern medicine. But I have also been a largely healthy and largely cash poor person. Neither of these states of being lends you to trying out new Wellness techniques. However, add a healthy dose of desperation to an over funded Flexible Spending Health Account and you have a recipe for Sign Me Up For Anything.
This morning’s agenda? Acupuncture and cupping. Both are ancient techniques designed to stimulate the body and achieve desired results. I invite you to overlook the obligatory tramp stamp and instead focus on the needles and the cups. Needless to say if the chi and blood in my lower sacral area were lazy before, it is wide awake and moving now. Fingers crossed it gets some labor started.
Once the cups had cooled and those pressure points were no longer active I had a little break. A break just long enough to pop next door and see my chiropractor. I have long since drank the chiropractic kool-aid and I was not shocked when my midwives suggested I resume chiropractic treatment late in pregnancy. Makes a fair amount of sense. If baby is to descend more easily, why not have those hips in a straight line? And if Mom is to get out of bed without colorful language every morning, why not have that back lined up, too? Pregnant trips to the chiropractor have introduced me to the Activator. It is a nifty little tool that allows for adjustment more gently. And it has a neat name. The Activator.
Popped out of the chiro’s office and back in to the open arms of the acupuncturist. Needles to the hands, shoulders, feet and elbows. MQD had his own acupuncture treatment started while I was with my chiropractor so he was blissed out in the back room while I got to have girl talk in the front.
Could our morning get better? Yes. It really could. Because I started this morning with my membranes intact.

Membranes in order, totally capable of sitting, driving, not peeing my pants for fifteen minutes at a stretch
The membrane that connects the amniotic sac to the wall of the uterus, of course. Now my membranes and I are bros, but it was time for them to go, sweep those bad boys outta here. So to the midwives we went to have them “swept,” a term that really doesn’t do justice to a gloved hand elbow deep in your vagina for the sole purpose of scraping part of your innards out of the way. But it is known to occasionally kick-start labor. And at this point, I’m game for anything.
And lo and behold what did I find at the midwives’ office? I am still only three centimeters dilated. Which means the hours I have spent squatting and sitting on my ball in the last few days have done nothing but amuse those with whom I watch television. And Baby D? S/he continues to rage against the dying of the light… the little bugger has flipped back over face up. Perhaps only temporarily in order to see what the hell was going on back there this morning… but what is the solution to that? Binding, ladies and gents (though at this point I suspect I have lost the gents.) If you guessed abdominal binding you are correct!! Lift Baby D upwards and backwards, so they can rotate and descend again. Music to my pelvic bones ears, but the bladder is not so thrilled.

Sans membranes, the ability to drive, hold urine for greater than fifteen minutes or not resemble a sumo wrestler from the back
So, off I go…. to roam around my neighborhood some more.
Dear New Neighbors,
If I knock on your door and seem out of breath and crazy eyed it is only because I need to use your facilities. Please, take pity on my hunch-backed self.
Love, Kelly, 40 weeks and 3 days pregnant