Last week, I went in for the first of my weekly ultrasounds and check-ups which I will have until my delivery. It was pretty exciting, as I hadn’t seen my little girl since the 20 week anatomy scan. That 32 week scan showed that all was mostly well; she was a champ at “practice breathing,” she had hair, she weighed a bit more than average (ouch), but she was head up. My doc began to introduce the idea that if she didn’t turn, I would be in for a C-section. I think she was afraid I’d freak out.
I spent the next week thinking about that. While this may sound crazy, I was pretty serene about the whole idea. I understand that while getting basically eviscerated would be more physically traumatic than the alternative, there are actually some benefits I found in the whole idea of a section. It’s planned, so you know exactly WHEN it’s going to happen (and I DO love a plan) and can assemble your team. From what I read, they usually schedule it a week or two before you hit that magical 40 week mark, which sounds GREAT!
Let’s face it. If you had to choose where to injure your body, you would probably have some zones that would be at the bottom of that list. Eyes and brains are pretty important and delicate, for instance. Most of us would put them at the very bottom of the “to be injured” list. I think many of us would think of the crotch area as “bottom of the list” fodder. If I had to choose where to have cuts/tears/stitches, my lower abdomen seems a much more palatable place to have such things than my hoo-ha. The day before yesterday, I went in for my 33 week scan. The little girl had flipped. I know I should be happy, but it is a bit bittersweet.
Books and classes don’t help. I have chosen to take the ostrich approach to the later part of my pregnancy. Fundamentally, I know what’s going to happen. But I will obsess and stress more than I am already if I know too much in this particular matter. During a recent class Will and I took, I almost needed to leave the room when they described how it may be necessary to “hold your stitches” during your first bowel movements (and the pics of the belly-button stump almost did me in as well. Will has agreed to tend to that bit when it’s time) and the color progression of lochia. My weekly reading is starting to discuss symptoms of labor and telling me what to expect for labor and delivery. I don’t like it. There’s something about phrases such as “mucous plug” and “bloody show” which make me really wish that there was some other way to get this thing out of me. Knock me out and keep me under for 2-3 weeks. I really don’t care.