Turn, baby, turn!
Doc thinks she is still booty down.
Of course she would be head down the first two trimesters and then turn towards the end.
I am hoping and dreaming of a natural birth.
I know that whatever happens, it will be fine.
I know that the important thing is to have her safely in my arms.
It’s just that I want her safely in my arms RIGHT AFTER she is born.
I want to feed her immediately.
Some of you will probably scoff and say I am naïve, but I want to feel the pain of labor and then appreciate the sweet miraculous reward.
I want my husband to watch me in awe and be impressed. So vain, I know.
I have never really been afraid of labor. I have always imagined myself having a traditional birth. The videos at childbirth class don’t really scare me. I am the bawler. Big ol’ tears dripping from my eyes after each birth. That’s me.
God’s will be done and may my baby be healthy and happy regardless of how she enters this world. That is my prayer as I wait to see if she will turn around or if a Cesarean is in my future.
In other news, my doctor always seems impressed with my belly. At first I assumed it was just his way of making pregnant women feel good about the watermelon protruding from their abdomen. Then, he made this comment: “It looks so normal for a bicornuate uterus!”
Wait, I thought. When I asked if my odd-shaped uterus would make my belly a funny shape, you told me no!?
Maybe he had been trying to keep me from my vain worries. Maybe they typically don’t look that odd.
Other than when baby girl nuzzles into one side or the other, my belly is a smooth round mass. I am thankful that I’m not a lopsided freakshow walking around.
What else is new? Not much, really.
Baby kicks harder now. As in I am doubling over from the force. I think she will prefer karate over ballet.
I still want Mexican food ALL THE TIME . . . and pasta . . . dripping in Marinara sauce pasta . . . and bread . . . garlicy, buttery bread.
That is probably where the 20 pounds I’ve gained have come from. hmmmm. Maybe I should think about that. Or, maybe I should go chow down on the Chicken Tortilla Soup that is simmering on the stove.
People keep wanting to know if I am nesting. In my brain I am. On Pinterest and Polyvore I am. We are moving, so I can not nest. ARGH. The longer this whole home buying process takes, the more ancy I will become. I want those walls painted, curtains hung, clothes washed . . . basically I want to do it ALL.
Here is my vision a la Polyvore.
Oh, except the crib skirt came today and it is NOT want I ordered. They sent me a baby pink tulle skirt. Gag me! It’s like my worst nightmare. I shudder.
What do you think?