Final Descent

33 Weeks, 3 Days
Honeydew Melon, or Pineapple
Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our final descent into the universe. Please return your tray tables and seat backs to the upright and locked position.


I am, apparently, carrying "low" or the baby has "dropped" according to at least a half dozen friends and family members. Of course, as a short person, it only means that I can't feel my ribs expanding, like, EVERY SINGLE SECOND. The rib pain is just the worst to me. Of course, there's more pain coming from the ever-stretching (and probably not ever returning to normal) ligaments in my lower abdomen.


I've been a bit concerned that this baby hasn't turned himself around to be ready for landing. At my last appointment a couple of weeks ago, he was still head-up. I have had multiple nightmares about having to have a cesarean because he didn't turn around for delivery. I mean, surely there must be some way to convince an unborn to rotate, right? Well, according to Spinning Babies, yes... there are ways. So I will be trying some of the less intense ones, like putting an ice pack on top of my tummy and playing music by my pubic bone. I have my next appointment in a couple of weeks, so I'll see what the midwife says then.


I don't want to negate anyone's birth experience. But I am really wanting to avoid a c-section. In my dreams, the surgeons keep telling me there is no other option and that they will totally sedate me for the surgery. I get furious because not only am I not getting the birth I want, but I am totally taken out of the equation so that I cannot even see my baby enter the world. In fact, I am kind of the last person in the room to know he has arrived because I have to wake up from anesthesia. That means, no kangaroo care, no skin-to-skin, no immediate nursing, no chance to tell my baby that it's okay, I'm here. I cannot stress how much I really, REALLY do not want that to be how my son enters this world. I want him to know me, smell me, and know he is okay. Really, a sedated cesarean takes away literally ALL of the things I want in my birth plan. It makes me sad, and angry, and sad again.


I'm not ready for this baby, clearly, because I have not yet scheduled my tour of labor and delivery. I haven't delivered at this hospital before, and so it might be important to, y'know, find out more about it. Especially their policies, given my fear of surgical intervention. I need to know how long before they're like, "Okay, lady, we've let you labor for a while. Now it's our turn." I have to make the call.