Three more weeks. Not that I'm counting ...
So I'm scheduled for a C-section on January 4. With Mary I had a VBAC, which I highly recommend. Get this: After you have your baby, you can get up and take care of your baby! It's amazing. And even more amazing? You can eat a giant burrito. Right after!
Not like I was saying "I want a burrito" right after Mary was born. I wasn't even saying, "I want my baby!" What I was saying was more along the lines of "I want morphine!" (Hey, it had been something of a fiasco of a delivery and I was in a lot of pain.) But I like the idea that I could have eaten a giant burrito if I'd wanted. I did, after a wonderful morphine-induced nap, get up out of bed and pick up my baby. On my own. And eat a burrito. AMAZING!
Yeah, yeah. And here I go choosing clear liquids and soup over a giant burrito. Oh, and the fact that I WILL NOT BE ABLE TO TAKE CARE OF MY BABY. That seriously stinks. (There's nothing quite like laying there on your back completely immobilized with a stitched up gut listening to your baby cry in the bassinet next to you. And there's NOTHING you can do but press the nurse call button and/or hope your husband, who has gone for a bite to eat--a giant burrito, of course--comes back soon.) Sigh. Who goes from a C-section to a VBAC to another C-section? (Me ... ) Life is weird sometimes, I guess.
All summer long, as I lay in bed groaning with nausea pangs, I debated with myself about whether or not to do another VBAC. Which would seem the obvious, normal thing to do. But Mary's delivery had caused some unusual (and really miserable) nerve damage. It took four months to heal, which was an eternity. But at least it wasn't really an eternity. It did heal. Nerve damage doesn't always heal. The thought of going through that again ... well, it was something I didn't want to face. And what if it didn't heal? It would seriously mess up the rest of my life, and I'm not kidding.
BUT not recovering from major abdominal surgery is pretty great. Being able to get out of bed and pick up your baby ... and eat that giant burrito! I had a really hard time letting go of the burrito. But I did.
I really, really felt like I should do a C-section. And Greg did too. If there's one thing that I learned from each of my children's births, it's that you follow the Spirit. In David's case, it saved his life. And in Mary's case, it led me to the darkest place I have ever been and through an experience so sacred and profound that I might be able to say it saved my life in a way. So if I'm feeling heavenly hints that I should schedule a C-section, I'm going to do it, by golly.
So I did. Like in August. So it's been on the books for a while. My doctor was definitely supportive of my having another VBAC. But she was also relieved when I chose to have a C-section. She was worried about a repeat of the nerve damage thing. And now that I have this whole gestational diabetes thing and am having a big baby--she's already, today, the size that David and Mary were when they were born--my doctor and I are even more relieved I'm having a C-section.
My whole point is that I know I have exactly three weeks. January 4th is the day. That's already one week before my due date. So unless this baby decides to come really early (really early by my standards), I already know her birthday. (And I have since August.)
January 4th! Ready or not, here we come ...
P.S. I had an ultrasound to check on the baby's size. And while it's hard to really see much when the baby is this far along, I did see her lips sucking on her hand. It was so sweet. She's my pal, hanging out, doing her thing, sucking, kicking, sleeping, kicking really hard. As much as I have complained about my pregnancy woes, I have loved being pregnant. LOVED. Does that even make sense?! How has this been so crummy ... but so great too?
