Well, we've arrived, we're officially full term! I'm so excited to meet my little pumpkin, I can hardly stand it. Don't get me wrong, pregnancy has been pretty good to me and I'm enjoying the few weeks I have left with him inside of me! There's just something so amazing about it... But when I think about holding him in my arms- wrapping him up and putting him to sleep in his cradle- seeing Matt with him- I'm like a little kid the few weeks before Christmas, bouncing up and down asking; "Is Santa coming TONIGHT???"
I want him to hang out in there and do all the developing he needs to do but at the same time- I just want him to get here!! They say the only thing that babies are really doing inside the womb after week 37 is just packin' on the fat and that they're ready to go- so so are we!! (ready to go, not the fat part- hahaha) We've got our bags mostly packed, meals frozen, nursery ready, clothes and diapers washed, all we need is a little red wrinkly bundle of joy.
We had another prenatal appointment yesterday evening- baby looks great. He's practicing his breathing, amniotic fluid looks great, his heart rate is strong and beautiful as usual- but he's still floating way above my pelvis. (And he's a little off to the side, or "oblique," but this shouldn't be a problem.) The floating thing could be. He should "drop" or "engage" this week since he hasn't already. My doctor seemed to be concerned that he hasn't dropped because he might not be able to- there might not be enough room for him even in the top of my pelvis. (Let alone the bottom.) She really stressed that we need to be prepared for a Cesarean, though my desire for a trial labor is not "unreasonable." She said she's been proven wrong before, and you never know. :0/ She even drew us a picture of the boney structures she was feeling in my pelvis with a serious look in her eyes. *sigh* She asked us how late we'd be willing to wait to go into labor naturally. I told her 42 weeks (that's the maximum for anyone.) It's like she was passing a verdict that he was never going to drop and my body was never going to go into labor on it's own.
I held it together as long as I could, but when we got home I burst into tears. It's a good thing I have Matt or I'd be a complete mess. He's been so supportive of my hopes and and so reassuring through my fears... I can't tell you how much I want a natural birth. I wont go into all my reasons because I'm sure I have plenty of readers who don't feel the same way and I don't want to cause any hard feelings- but for me- it feels like something I have to do. That I was born to do. That I should have been designed to do- was I not? Did God give me a burning desire to be a mom and not give me the proper equipment to bring a baby into the world?? I guess that's the point where most people are thankful for modern medicine and move on. But not me, oh no, I obsess. I obsessed about it all night, trying to be reasonable and then falling apart in tears again. Through dinner, after dinner, even at 4am. Poor Matt... (I love you, honey!) it's gotta be tough being an expectant father!
If you don't know, I've had four surgeries in the past. I hate surgery. I hate recovery. I hate the drugs they give you for recovery. Mostly, I hate feeling useless or helpless and having to rely on others for even basic needs. I've struggled emotionally with being "abnormal" (though it's been a long time) and with people always telling me that I can't because I'm different, or because I'm too little. I hate it. I felt a little bit like Jon Locke last night: "Don't tell me what I can't do!!!" I'm terrified of an epidural. I'm even more terrified of not being able to have an epidural because of my spinal abnormalities and having to undergo general anesthesia for a Cesarean and missing the birth of my son. I feel terrible for him- what if he's crammed into my pelvis for hours, and then gets doped up with drugs, and suddenly ripped out of his environment into a cold and bright one, and whisked away for testing without the comfort of his knocked out mother. It kills me.
But there I go overreacting again.... forgive me. It really is still too early to be jumping to conclusions. Matt told me last night that he doesn't want me to give up hope- and he's right. Being negative and fearful will not allow my body to do what it was meant to do, anyway. I take one doubting look from my doctor and run away with it. And I can't keep this up for five weeks. So in my vulnerability, I request your prayers. My doctor may not see how it's possible, but with God all things are- and He can open up my pelvis for any size baby He wants to. So please pray for labor to start on it's own, and for the baby to fit. And for my sanity in the meantime... It doesn't matter so much if it's next week or the middle of October, I'm not praying for an early labor just to "get it done with." I just want to bring him into the world safe and sound and have a feeling that the earlier it is, the smaller he'll be, and therefore the better my chances are. Also, people's comments are making me a bit hostile and I imagine they're just going to get worse as the weeks go on! "Wow, you're about ready to pop!" "Are you completely miserable yet?" "You're getting an epidural, aren't you?" "When are you due, tomorrow? Really? Not until then?" And my new personal favorite: "Don't have that baby right here!"
Oh man. And the "sympathy" comments and looks are starting to hit- which for me is going to be worse than the bad humor. Especially if we pass 40 weeks. Please don't pity me!!
Soooooo- yeah. That's the story for now. I'll update again after next week's appointment if anything has changed. And with all you prayer warriors, it might! Even if the only thing that changes is my heart with a sense of peace about it all. Thanks for listening to my giant vent. Love you all :)