After reluctantly heading to my baby flipping procedure earlier this week I was elated to discover that Doodle Three had already flipped of his/her own accord!
Clearly this baby is some some of foetal genius.
This otherwise stunningly good news has proved to have one unexpected downside, which is that with the worries of a breech birth out of the way, I have been forced to confront the startling impending reality that --- OH MY GOD WE ARE GOING TO HAVE A REAL HUMAN BABY ARRIVING AT OUR HOUSE IN THE EXTREMELY NEAR FUTURE!
*stunned silence*
Now, I acknowledge on some basic level that after 8.5 months of gestation, I should probably not be quite as shocked by this news as I am.
When I was pregnant with my first I was obsessed with my due date. You could ask me at any given moment how pregnant I was and I would respond with an up-to-the-moment count,
"Thirteen weeks, four days!"
"Tomorrow will be thirty-one weeks!"
I could detail on a moment's notice the size of my baby as it related to a variety of common produce,
"It's now about the size of a squash!"
"Picture a length of swiss chard!"
With my second I was significantly less tuned-in. Still, I could usually guess which gestational month I was in and could even occasionally get the week right as well, if pressed.
But now, with my third, I am so busy chasing after two toddlers that I find I pay almost no mind to how this pregnancy is progressing.
I'm embarrassed to admit how often I've been caught off-guard by the sudden query, "So, how far along are you?" only to stammer in response,
"Um, let's see, about four months? Or maybe six? What month is this again?"
I finally signed up for one of those, "Your Pregnancy Week by Week" emails in an earnest attempt to avoid being that woman who goes to the bathroom one day only to emerge with an unexpected newborn.
The other significant difference I notice this time around, especially as I get into the late stages of pregnancy, is my complete lack of anticipation as the due date approaches.
With both of my other deliveries, I was close two weeks overdue and it was TORTURE. With the Snood, I was due September 13th and didn't go into labor until the 25th. This meant that for almost two full weeks I did nothing but sitt around WAITING FOR THE BABY TO COME. In this I had help from hoards of visiting relatives whose sole job was to sit on my couch, stare at me intently, and will me to go into labor already.
I would wake up every morning, turn to my husband and cry,
"I'm going to be pregnant FOREVER!!!!"
In response David would gently suggest that he believed this to actually be a medical impossibility before slinking off to work as quickly as possible.
Crinks was due on May 7th and was born the 17th. Again, I spent 10 days in the agony of waiting, experiencing frequent violent outbursts towards friends and neighbors who would call to inquire daily, "Have you had that baby yet??"
But now, with Doodle Three's due date fast approaching, I find I've had a change of heart. I look at the calendar this time and think,
"Really? The baby is due THAT SOON? How is that possible?"
As far as I'm concerned, this baby should stay put just as long as it likes. Two children into this gig I've finally realized that these things are A LOT more work once they emerge from the birth canal.
And so I find myself lying in bed at night, gently rubbing my belly and encouraging him or her to just nestle in and relax. My due date (according to my latest email reminder) is February 1st, but I'm hoping this one stays put for a little while longer...
...I'm thinking sometime after St. Patrick's Day sounds good.
