So as I mentioned yesterday divine intervention made me call J.T. my trusty OB because I hadn't felt the baby move for a few days and when we got there he warned me that there was a possibility we might need to do a c-section sooner rather than later.
I tried to remain calm when reporting this to everyone but when I was faced with the possibility that baby day might be fast forwarded two weeks my brain freaked out and did a back flip out the back of my head.
I believe my exact thought process was:
1. Is my baby ok in there?
2. 38 weeks is too early for the baby to be born!
3. All that time spent letting nature take its course was for naught!
4. I haven't bought my pretty hospital bathrobe yet!
5. The diaper pail at home is overflowing and I need to change it before my in-laws come over to pick up Ellie!
Not necessarily in that order but you get the gist.
We had an ultrasound to see what was happening and found that my fluid was dangerously low. The conversation went something like this:
Ultrasound Tech: (silent as she probes around, then) Have you been drinking?
Me: (thinking) Oh Jesus I'm busted! My weekly wine allowance has given my baby some sort of fetal alcohol thing! Oh God - do I own up to it or play dumb? Can they trace wine in my system from three weeks ago? I'm totally going to lie - no one can prove anything. Except all of those people who watched me drink wine.
Ultrasound Tech: (after 10 seconds of silence while I contemplate life in prison for killing my unborn baby) Because you look like you might be really dehydrated. Have you been drinking enough water?
Me: (relieved laughter) Oh no... I don't drink that shit.
Apparently I'm supposed to be drinking water. My homework assignment was to go home and hold my mouth open under the bathtub faucet on full throttle for 24 hours then come back in today to see if the fluid had increased. If so, then the problem was dehydration. If not, then we had bigger problems and it was baby time.
So began my 24-hour water binge. With the life of my baby on the line I forced myself to down almost 5 gallons of the nasty stuff.
It must have paid off because not only was my fluid way up, but the baby has actually turned into a duck.