A few weeks ago when I went in for an ultrasound, my little man was frank breech - head up, feet directly in front of his face. It's been pretty clear over the duration of my pregnancy that his head, and not his butt, has stayed up. Today, I went in for an external cephalic version, which is a very fancy way of saying that my OB/GYN pushed on my belly and made him flip head down.
This happened with Sophie too, and it was no fun. It hurt and, when it was over, we could tell Sophie was NOT a happy camper. Her heart rate went up and she moved around like it was nobody's business. But she stayed head down and I had a great delivery, one day after she was due.
This time around, I knew that if he didn't flip, I would have to have a c-section. I weighed the pros and cons and, with 3 weeks until my due date, I decided I would much rather have a flip than a c-section. So, at 6:30 this morning I was admitted to the hospital, equipped with a heart monitor, and waited for my doctor (whom I love, and who flipped and delivered Sophie) to arrive.
It was amazing to me how different it was this time.
First, it was MUCH easier, and far less painful. Secondly, after he was head down, he calmed significantly. He had been crazy active up until the flip and then, his heart rate stayed the same, and he just settled in to his new surroundings. Roy suggested that he was hiding from us.
So three weeks to go. I'm taking it easy today, per doctors orders. I'm doing Festival work from the laptop, feet up, a full water bottle by my side, and mindless TV on in front of me. This afternoon, I'll have a nap.
I've been reading a lot about what those first few weeks will be like for my recovery and the life of a newborn, and on the way out of the hospital we saw a newborn through the window... so tiny, so in need of comfort and his/her mommy. Where as a few weeks ago I felt woefully unprepared psychologically for his arrival, I am at a point where I just can't wait to hold my little boy. Three weeks and counting.