Today my evil husband and father went to a brewery without me and they brought home two growlers of delicious blonde ale. I think I’ve shown an incredible amount of restraint and maturity throughout this pregnancy, but now I’m ready for a goddamn beer.
Aside from being ridiculously, obnoxiously sober, I actually feel pretty fantastic. No more butt pain! Yesterday morning, my parents and I went on a stroller walk and played at the park with Kenzie, and then in the afternoon we all did a 3-mile hike in Sodalis Park.
^^^ Vagina tree! IT’S A SIGN.
Everyone keeps telling me my belly is getting lower and lower, but it’s tough to tell the difference. I still get kicked in the ribs at night and have the bonus discomfort of the baby hiccuping into my crotch and mashing my bladder.
I flipped out a little bit on Thursday when my doctor suggested we schedule a c-section for June 17, which would put me at 40 weeks + 3 days. (He is fine with a VBAC as long as there are no other complications, but I can’t be induced since it carries a greater risk of uterine rupture…PICTURE IT).
Apparently he’s booked solid next week and preferred to do it earlier rather than later. I initially agreed to Tuesday, but I came home feeling discouraged and anxious. If I don’t go into labor on my own, I’ll be okay with a c-section, but I feel like Tuesday is way too early to throw in the towel. Last time, my water didn’t even break until 40+3. And why should his schedule (rather than MY body) dictate whether or not I have major surgery? So I called back and canceled. If nothing happens in the next few days, I’ll go in again next week for a checkup and a non-stress test to make sure the baby and placenta are still healthy. And if I go past 41 weeks, we’ll have to talk c-section again, but I really hope it doesn’t come to that.