The countdown is here. I am officially full-term, 37 weeks. I have two weeks to go.
Our baby girl is breech, meaning she should have gotten her head down in the womb to make an exit. But she’s head up—right under my right ribcage. As my mom pointed out, she has a mind of her own. So, given my “advanced maternal age” and a jumble of other factors and considerations, I’m scheduled for a c-section.
It’s not ideal, but I’m not going to fight it. After a wonderful pregnancy—save for increasing incidences of heartburn, cankles, backache and other unsavory side effects—it’s been smooth sailing. But things have turned. I’ve run out of steam. I am profoundly uncomfortable. And I’m ready to meet this little girl!