That, in fact, is how Tom and I found ourselves sitting once again in our perinatologist's office last week, watching our little one on a screen once again. The last time we saw this doctor, he had proclaimed me too healthy and the baby "too awesome" to need to see him again. But that was before it became obvious that this child would be large. But last Thursday was the day of reckoning - the day we'd find out exactly how big this baby is.
Before that appointment, I had visited with my OB/GYN, trying to come up with some sort of game plan. It was agreed that we'd not monkey with Mother Nature (other than my surreptitious overimbibing of all things pineapple) until week 39, and would let the baby just get big. I'd be uncomfortable, yes, but the baby would be healthier for it. If I did happen to go into labor earlier, and conditions were favorable, I could try to give birth vaginally.
But then the sonogram happened. The sonogram that told us that, at 34 weeks, 5 days, the baby was already more than seven pounds. The sonogram that told us the baby was breech, head up, and didn't have a whole lot of room to make another turn toward the universally agreed upon optimum location for a vaginal birth.
In other words, as a family friend put it, this baby is coming out of the sunroof regardless.
While this wasn't in my plan when we began talking about babies, I realize I'm not exactly in control of any of this. As a very wise friend told me back when I found out a C-section was likely in my future, babies are the boss of you - especially the unborn variety. They make their own plans for arrival, and are very circumspect about sharing them with anyone. You can plan all you want, but if the baby could process language at this point, it would laugh heartily at you and your pineapple.
So now, I will sit back and wait - which is hard for someone who makes plans in case the Plan A doesn't work. And with nothing to do now that the nursery is done and all the showers are over, it will be hard. Thankfully, I lack the energy to get too worked up, so maybe that's part of nature's plan, too: Make the woman so tired that she can't be bored?
So what did you do to pass the time in those last few weeks of pregnancy?
Bethany Erickson is 35 weeks pregnant and the wife of Texas Health Resources web editor Tom Erickson.
I organized my whole house - call it nesting. My cabinets have never been so clean and organized. Good luck.
ReplyDeleteI had the opposite problem,my little dude was well...little, so we got to see him a lot too! And I wanted a vaginal birth too and didn't get one, so I hear ya loud and clear! I became a blogger, because at 26 weeks I was put on bed rest and was seeing my OB twice a week. It was a greeat way to share our story wih family instead of making 54738294635 phone calls! But now Henry will be able to read about his beginnings later down the road. But you're already blogging, I also tried knitting, scrap booking, and laying by the pool with a book :)
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