We are settling in as a family of four (can’t forget the dog!) and our little sweet pea is nearly out of the newborn phase. There is much to say, but for now, here are a few pictures that I took for her two-month photo session.

This girl makes a ridiculous amount of faces and she absolutely cracks me up and makes my heart melt all at the same time.

asking elena to sit like a lady for her photos

“you want me to do WHAT!?”

“i don’t think so, mom!”

“this is sooo much better!”

“i’m totally allergic to sitting like a lady. see!?”

“oh? if i sit like a lady i’ll get a milk snack!?

“hmm. let me think about that… “

“alright, here you go!”

“now where’s my milk!?”

On the night of your birth, your mom and dad arrived at the hospital hoping to hear that active labor had already started.

Contractions were consistent, yet painless, for the past 48 hours. At five minutes apart, they seemed to occur too quickly to still be considered early labor.

Your mom was hooked up to a fetal monitoring system so the nurses on duty could track her contractions and your heartbeat for a few minutes.

You hadn’t moved at all that day, and when the sound of your strong and steady heartbeat filled the room, it immediately eased your parents’ worries.

Contractions were steady enough to be considered active labor, yet at only 1.5 centimeters dilated, the nurse said they couldn’t classify it as true active labor yet.

Your mom and dad couldn’t be too upset, though.

After all, your little body that had moved so very much over the past few weeks was once again facing head down, right where it should be.

Discussion began on how to start the induction. Because your mom was straddling the line between early and active labor, they said she wouldn’t need any drugs to start things off, but it might be helpful to break the water to get things moving faster.

And just as your mom was thinking of how she’d convince the staff to let her wait it out a few more hours to see if labor progressed on its own, Lisa, the midwife, arrived.

She hurried into the room, clutching print-outs of the fetal monitor activity.

“I don’t like what I’m seeing here,” Lisa said. “Your baby is handling the contractions well, but the heart rate decels after each one ends.”

Lisa thought the late decels may be due to an aging placenta. You were now 12 days past your due date, and because babies receive oxygen from the placenta, she assumed you just weren’t getting enough anymore.

“Lie on your side,” she instructed. “We’ll have to hook you up to an IV and give you an oxygen mask for the next 10 minutes. That can help fix the issue – but if not, we’re going to have to do a C-section. The heart rate is dropping too low and you aren’t even in active labor yet.”

And just like that, your mom and dad’s plans changed once again.

Your mom held the oxygen mask to her face and tried to still her body, hoping that by calming herself she could lower your stress as well.

But after ten minutes like this, your heart rate was still dropping dangerously low and the news was not good.

“We’re going to have to do a C-section,” Lisa said.

Tears slid down your mom’s face and she nodded her head in agreement.

Your dad grabbed her hand and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “It will all be okay,” he said. “We get to meet our baby so soon.”

Terbutaline was administered to slow down the contractions that were causing you so much pain.

“You’ll need to take out your braids,” they said. It was standard protocol to remove everything but the hospital-issued cap and gown.

Your mom undid the “labor braids” she had fashioned earlier that day – a stark reminder that she wouldn’t be going through labor after all.

Various staff members came into the room to introduce themselves and explain their role during the surgery.

And within just a few hours after arriving at the hospital, your mom was wheeled into an operating room to be prepped for surgery while your dad waited outside.

There’s nothing romantic about a C-section.

The room was sterile. The lights were bright. And strange techno-pop music was playing  overhead.

“Will someone change that ridiculous music?” she remembers them saying.

She leaned over to get the spinal and held hands with a woman whose job, it seemed, was simply to hold her hand.

Your mom’s eyes were closed tight and she was furiously counting to ten over and over again in her head.

“You’re doing great,” said the hand-holding woman. “Do you do yoga? You seem so calm.”

Your mom’s eyes flew open.

“I do, but I am not calm at all.” she assured her, tears rolling down her face.

Your mom thinks the hand-holding woman felt bad for asking after that.

She wanted to stay calm to keep you calm, so your mom focused inward once more and went back to counting to ten again and again.

The minutes seemed to fly by, and it wasn’t long before your dad came into the room.

The sight of your dad immediately brought more tears to your mom’s eyes.

“I don’t know why people electively sign up for this” she whispered to him. “This is awful.”

Your mom didn’t feel pain, but she could feel pressure and knew the surgeon had started the C-section. She started to shake and your dad says that her face went pale white.

“You’ve got to keep her calm,” said the hand-holding woman.

Your mom doesn’t remember what your dad said to her after that, but she closed her eyes and just listened to his voice.

“The baby is almost here,” the surgeon’s voice called from over the drape.

Your dad peeked over.

“They’re pulling the baby out!” he said to your mom. “This is it!”

And then your mom heard the best news of all.

“It’s … It’s a girl!” your dad cried. “We have a baby girl!”

Your mom didn’t say anything back, she just cried and cried. This time, though, they were tears of happiness. You were here. You were finally here.

“One, two, three, four…”

The surgeon was counting from behind the drape.

Baby girl, your constant flipping and moving in the last few weeks had caused the cord to wrap around your neck four times.

You were immediately brought to a warming table to be assessed. Because you missed out on a trip down the birth canal, mucus and extra fluids had to be expelled from your lungs right away. Your initial Apgar score was 1, and quickly climbed to 6, and then 8.

The medical team knew your parents had wished to have a natural birth and let your dad have skin-to-skin contact with you as soon as you were breathing on your own.

Let’s just say, your daddy is a hairy guy.

You loved it, though, all snuggled in his chest. And now, at just two weeks after your birth, he can still calm you down just by holding you like that.

After your mom was stitched up, you were placed in her arms.

Because of all the drugs received during the surgery, your mom’s memory wasn’t the greatest, but she’ll never forget that moment.

There was never an issue with the placenta. It was the cord that had caused you so much pain and stress. As your mom’s contractions sent you further and further down the birth canal, the cord just kept pulling on you tighter and tighter.

“Your family is really lucky,” a nurse said to your dad a few hours later. “I’ve seen a lot of stillbirths this way.”

On the day you were born, you were finally head down – just like we hoped.

On the day you were born, your mom finally started labor – just like we imagined.

On the day you were born, you arrived in the most medicated way possible – not at all like we planned.

On the day you were born, you were born.

And that’s all we really wanted anyway.

celebrating one week of life

You are one special girl.

elena rue
born august 5, 2012 at 10:23pm
7lbs, 15oz & 21.5 inches long

There’s this poem by Robert Burns entitled To a Mouse.  It includes the line above, later made famous by John Steinbeck.

You can plan and schedule to the day, hour and minute, but the funny thing about plans is that they’re never guaranteed.

—–

To our little sweet pea.

You were born on the first Sunday of August. Your mom and dad thought for sure you’d be a July baby. They thought for sure you’d be a boy.

They were wrong about a lot of things.

Just two days before your birth, your Nana and Grandpa arrived in Charlotte. The hospital planned to deliver you into this world on Sunday, but your family held on to the hope that you’d arrive sooner.

Your parents had prepared for a natural and unmedicated birth. They knew that jump-starting labor could greatly reduce the chance of this happening, but you were nearly two weeks overdue and time was running out.

They ate well that night. In fact, they had been eating well for the past week.

As the due date came and went, and then another week passed, your parents were always quick to go out for a nice dinner. Each meal, they rationalized, may be the last one out for quite some time.

The contractions started while your mom dined on a fantastic meal of shrimp and grits at Charlotte’s newest restaurant, e2, developed by Emeril Lagasse.

They joked that they’d have Emeril to thank for starting labor that night, but your mom fully expected the contractions to go away in a few hours. After all, this had already happened many times within the past week.

But this time, the contractions didn’t go away.

Your mom tossed and turned throughout that night. Each contraction was uncomfortable and made sleeping difficult, but not one was painful and not one took her breath away.

In the early morning hours, your parents started to time the contractions. Five minutes apart and 60 seconds long.

This continued throughout the day, and at one point, contractions were three minutes apart, although eventually going back to five minutes. The symptoms were textbook for active labor, but your mom already knew there was nothing textbook about you and this pregnancy.

“You’ll know when it’s the real thing,” they always said. “You won’t be able to walk through them. You won’t be able to talk through them.”

So just like she had done for the past few weeks, she waited.

Secretly, she hoped that she was indeed in active labor.

Maybe she had a previously undiscovered high pain tolerance? Perhaps she was actually in transition and would be pushing this baby out in a matter of minutes?

All of this waiting had led to a lot of wondering.

The hours ticked by, and then just as it always does, Saturday turned into Sunday.

—–

The induction was scheduled for 7AM, but after a 6AM call to confirm their arrival, your mom and dad were told there was no room and the hospital would call back to reschedule for later that day.

They felt a bit like Mary and Joseph right then being turned away from the inn.

The contractions were still strong and consistent. They were still uncomfortable. They were still painless.

It was a long day, that Sunday.

In the later afternoon, your mom started to grow anxious. You were always a mover and a shaker, but she hadn’t felt you move at all that day.

And despite the ever-present contractions, she had still felt your little feet kick her ribs over and over again the day before.

After a call to the hospital to report the lack of movement, they asked that your parents come in at 7PM to prepare for the induction.

The bags were packed, goodbyes were said, and off they went to bring you into this world.

To be continued in part two …

“I’m never leaving,” – says Sweet Pea. Every day.

It’s one week past the due date and Sweet Pea seems as comfy as ever in what I can only assume is a McMansion-sized uterus.

I had my 41-week appointment today and went through a non-stress test, ultrasound and routine checkup. The non-stress test is a 20-minute procedure that monitors the baby’s heart rate and fetal activity. As we already knew Sweet Pea was a mover and a shaker, it was no surprise that she passed with flying colors.

The ultrasound revealed that Sweet Pea’s amniotic fluid is also sitting at a perfect level and the placenta is looking pretty spectacular too. With such quality living space, I guess even I can’t blame the little one for her failure to launch.

The best news of all? Sweet Pea is still head down and starting to engage! If I don’t deliver in the next two days, we’ll head back to our prenatal care group this Thursday for another non-stress test to make sure all operations are still functioning smoothly.

Now that I’m truly in the home stretch of pregnancy, I’ve realized there are some good things to having a baby after the due date has passed. And as inquiring minds are always asking for the latest updates, I think it’s important to try and stay as positive as possible during what can easily become a frustrating time!

So, what’s so good about being 41 weeks pregnant, anyway?

• It’s like you just got an extra week to study for a huge exam. Kevin is rereading Natural Childbirth the Bradley Way and I’ve picked up The Happiest Baby on the Block for the second time.
• It gives you one last moment to really enjoy life as just the two of you. Kevin and I have had our fair share of restaurant dates out “while we still can” in preparation for the big day.
• There’s more time for self-indulgences. My 39-week “delivery-day pedicure” is now upgrading to a 41-week pedicure. Plus, my newly-threaded eyebrows are looking pretty marvelous as well!
• Your house has never been cleaner. More time to wait equals more time to nest. I’ve also managed to create three new house projects that may or may not happen before this baby is born.
• You get automatic sympathy points from strangers. During the last month of pregnancy, it’s typical to hear the standard “When are you due!?” while out and about. An answer of “last week” guarantees a shower of compliments and praise for your hugely-pregnant and heroic self.

And what’s so bad about being 41 weeks pregnant?

• Well, you’re 41 weeks pregnant. I think that says it all, really.

Just five days or less (puhlease - less!) until we meet our little one!

The due date has come and gone and I’m now 40 weeks and 4 days pregnant!

Kevin and I headed back to the doctor’s office on Thursday to reconfirm position and check for progress. Luckily, Sweet Pea is still head down – and has stayed head down since last Sunday – so I’m really hoping that he’ll stay this way for good now. I’m thinking maybe he’s just a little directionally challenged like his mom and just took a little longer than most of his fetus friends to figure out where to go.

I’m also now considered to have a favorable cervix for induction, but we aren’t going to hurry and try to get the baby out now, even though he is head down at the moment. I really feel that when labor hits, Sweet Pea will know what to do, and if it turns out that he wants to come out breech, then that’s the way it goes.

However, since I’ve now passed the due date, my prenatal office has scheduled an induction for me anyway because they won’t let the pregnancy go beyond 42 weeks. I’m hoping Sweet Pea will make his entrance before this happens, but if not, Kevin and I are headed to the hospital on Sunday, August 5 to meet our baby. I’ll be 41 weeks, 5 days at that point and just nearing the 42-week end date.

I spent much of the past week feeling pretty exhausted due to averaging about 4 hours of sleep a night. I think it was mostly due to stressing out about the baby’s position, but also because it’s just not comfortable to sleep with 30 pounds strapped to your stomach! Sleep has been better the last two days and I’m now concentrating on staying relaxed and positive. Oxytocin is known to help bring on labor and I’m ready and willing to take in all that I can!

Weight Gain: Another 1/2 pound, so now at 31!
Gender Guesses: Kevin and I are both still leaning towards boy. We also found out that my sister-in-law, Ali, will be expecting a boy this December!
Nesting: The thing that sucks about nesting at 38 weeks is that you have to do it again once you’re overdue. And by nesting, I mean give the house a real good cleaning. Bleh. Anyone want to come over and scrub toilets?  
Pregnancy Clothes: Over it.
Most Hormonal Moment:  After struggling to decide whether to induce or not if baby was still head down, I heard this song “Wait for Me” on the radio and broke down in tears in the car. When you’re overdue, hormones are definitely in overdrive. Gah. Even listening to it now makes me all teary.

With a grand total of 7 hours of sleep throughout the weekend and too many tears to count, I was physically and emotionally exhausted.

While at the hospital last Wednesday for an external cephalic version, we found out Sweet Pea was head down already and we didn’t have to go through with the appointment.

Friday arrived and I was fairly certain that Sweet Pea turned breech again sometime that afternoon. I was both frustrated and amused at my baby’s insane movements this late in pregnancy.

I was thankful to have avoided the version attempt, especially since the baby clearly would have gone breech again after what would most likely have been a painful and stressful experience.

Yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that perhaps Sweet Pea’s return to breech meant that there was a reason why he couldn’t stay head down. My chiropractic appointments, moxibustion and various flipping techniques had definitely encouraged the baby to move down, but given the chance, he was happy to go right back up again.

Sleep was difficult that night as thoughts and anxieties collided in my brain. I resigned myself to the fact that the baby was going to do what it wants, but various scenarios and what-ifs still ran through my mind as the hours passed.

While watching a movie with Kevin on Saturday night, I remarked that Sweet Pea hadn’t moved that much that day. The baby is usually very active at night, especially after dinner, but I hadn’t felt anything – for hours.

The movie played on and I grew more anxious as the time passed and I still felt nothing from the baby.

“Can you try talking to the baby again?” I asked Kevin.

Usually whenever he does, Sweet Pea will respond immediately.

Still nothing.

We tried a few other things that worked in the past and still there was no movement. I couldn’t help but think that Sweet Pea’s twisting and turning all over the place had caused the cord to wrap too tightly around the baby.

We were both pretty anxious at this point, and after leaving a message with our prenatal care group, we headed to the hospital to get checked out.

I was hooked up to a fetal monitoring system in the triage room and thankfully Sweet Pea’s strong heartbeat could be heard a few seconds later.

Our nurse assured us that many babies exit the womb with their cord wrapped around the body, but with my history, she was glad we had come in to get checked out. She determined that perhaps Sweet Pea’s awkward positioning is what caused the decreased fetal movement.

After a 20-minute non-stress test, Jan, the midwife on call that night, arrived in the room and declared that Sweet Pea looked picture perfect. Before leaving, she examined me and also confirmed that the baby was indeed breech again.

“It’s such an unusual case” she said emphatically in her lilting British accent. “You must have not read the same textbook as the rest of us, darling.”

First-time moms rarely have babies flipping this much at nearly 40-weeks pregnant, and the fact that I also have a bicornuate uterus – which usually creates less space in the womb for baby – also adds to the absurdity.

“I think the only time I’ve ever seen this is when I worked in Europe with Irish mums going on their tenth child!”

I took it as a compliment to my fertile nature, but couldn’t help but think my uterus had just been likened to that of Michelle Duggars’.

She glanced down at my feet dangling at the edge of the bed.

“How tall are you then?” she says.

Standing at 5 feet 10 inches, Jan thought that perhaps my longer torso also gave me an edge in the larger-womb department.

Your baby isn’t even lying like a normal breech,” Jan’s eyes widened as she felt around some more. “It’s almost as if he’s sitting in a chair.”

Sweet Pea’s head was pressed against my right rib, with the butt to the left of my belly button and the legs dangling in all directions. Because of the constant movement, she declared that this baby wasn’t even considered a breech, but as having an unstable lie. At any given time he could be breech, transverse, oblique or vertex. A ferris wheel, indeed.

We briefly discussed our birthing options. Clearly, if baby was anything but head down going into labor, I’d require a c-section.

Yet if we could get the baby down before labor began, perhaps I could quickly be induced before Sweet Pea boarded the ferris wheel once more.

Starting an intervention like this was never part of my ideal birth scenario, but it did provide the chance of vaginal birth.  And a small chance for vaginal childbirth was much better than a 100% chance of c-section due to unstable lie.

She checked my cervix for dilation, but it was still tight and closed. While it didn’t really matter given the baby was currently breech, it also meant that if baby was head down, I couldn’t be induced anyway as conditions weren’t favorable.

Coincidentally, we were scheduled to see Jan the following Monday for my 40-week appointment, so she told us to hold tight and we’ll see what happens come Monday.

I slept maybe 4 hours that night, gaining an hour more than the night before.

My eyes were red from crying and my glands growing swollen from the exhaustion.

“I’m ready to schedule a c-section,” I told Kevin. “I just can’t handle this anymore. I’m not sleeping. I’m exhausted. This is just too much.”

After much discussion, we decided that depending on the baby’s position at Monday’s 40-week appointment, we would schedule a c-section for Wednesday.

I knew I was giving up, but also felt that I needed to get myself physically and emotionally stable to prepare for life with a newborn.

With our decision made, I felt a little more in control and spent the day lounging around the house and not bothering with any of my usual turning-baby techniques. While I normally avoided the couch and sat down on my exercise ball or the floor, on this day, I slouched.

At the end of the night, I couldn’t help but feel that Sweet Pea had moved once more. Kevin thought he may have felt the head, but wasn’t sure.

“It is what it is,” we said.

I got more sleep that night than I had all weekend.

We had our 40-week appointment today, and as it only could be – Sweet Pea is once again confirmed to be head down.

“i do what i want” -Sweet Pea, the 7-week old embryo

Jan said that my cervix has definitely progressed since Saturday night’s check – but there’s still no dilation. If I were to be induced today, I’d face a 40% chance of it ending with a c-section.

Kevin and I also don’t feel comfortable scheduling a c-section knowing that Sweet Pea is head down again, so we’re set up to go back to the office on Thursday to once again confirm position and check for dilation.

While Sweet Pea may be on a ferris wheel, it feels like we are on a roller coaster.

As of today, we’d like to make it to 41 weeks before considering any interventions – whether it be scheduling an induction or c-section, and hope that birth will progress on its own.

And as we’ve said all too frequently in the past days, it is what it is.

I changed into a hospital gown and immediately started doing pelvic tilts on the ground. Everyone had left the room except for Kevin to give me privacy while changing, so I kept doing the tilts until they came back in the room.

The ultrasound was set up and we once again announced that we’re being surprised on the baby’s sex. This was the fourth ultrasound I’ve had since the 20-week anatomy scan and I’m always nervous that someone will slip and give away the gender!

Our midwife, Jan, felt around the pelvis area as the ultrasound machine was set up. Her expression quickly changed as she felt around and I couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad thing.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“It feels like a head to me, but let’s just make sure,” she replied.

I could tell she didn’t want to get my hopes up until the ultrasound could confirm position.

“Remember to look away from the screen,” I reminded Kevin. The midwife was placing the ultrasound wand right on the pelvis area and I didn’t want him to catch a glimpse of anything that might give away the gender.

“Oh, he can look,” Jan said. “It’s just the head!”

And there it was – situated perfectly and just where it was supposed to be.

I’ve never been so happy to see a circular shape in my life.

After finding out Sweet Pea was breech at the 38-week appointment, Kevin and I decided to hold off on doing an external version. We successfully moved our baby head down at 35 weeks,  and as I have higher amounts of amniotic fluid than normal, we figured we had a good shot at doing this again naturally.

I immediately scheduled appointments with a chiropractor known as the best at flipping babies in Charlotte, and also made a visit to my acupuncturist again for another round of moxibustion.

I brought back all my tricks from last time and hoped for the best.

It kind of worked.

My 39-week appointment on Monday revealed that Sweet Pea was no longer breech, but transverse. Instead of hanging her head by my upper right rib, she had made her way to the left of my belly button.

My midwife was encouraged to see this and said we’ll likely be successful if we attempt a version this week at the hospital.

This quote found online also gives me hope that Sweet Pea is headed in the right direction.

“After 32-34 weeks, I am quite concerned to find a transverse baby – except when the baby was breech recently and is now in process of flipping to head down. The breech-to-head-down process may take 3 days (but is often 3 minutes!) and a mother or provider may notice the baby in a transverse position in the midst of the change. Usually, the mother knows the baby is ‘on the move.’” – spinningbabies.com

Following Monday’s appointment, I headed back to the chiropractor and immediately followed it with a moxibustion appointment.

Our version is scheduled for 1:30 this afternoon and I really hope that we’ll find Sweet Pea already head down and can leave. If that’s the case, you can bet I’m going to walk my heart out and squat like there’s no tomorrow to get this baby locked and loaded.

I’m not thrilled with the medications given during an external version, and there are other risks involved like fetal distress, and in rarer cases, placental or uterine rupture. If a serious problem occurs, we’ll need an immediate c-section.

I can’t eat or drink anything for eight hours before the version either. I’ve just realized that it’s actually longer than 8 hours as I won’t be able to eat until after it’s completed anyway.

As I normally eat breakfast (maybe twice), plus lunch and usually an afternoon snack all by 1pm, I am a very hungry and hormonal pregnant lady right now. Kevin is a saint for working from home today.

We leave for the hospital within the hour. Let’s hope we come back with a head-down baby Sweet Pea!

Weight Gain: .5 pounds this week. Weight gain is definitely slowing down now.
Cravings: Everything.
Size of Sweet Pea: Watermelon!
Sleep: I’ve been waking around 3:30AM for the past few days. I can usually fall back asleep by 6, but sleep is getting so difficult.
Toes: A gender-neutral green, of course.

As I’m nearing the end of pregnancy, I don’t feel like Sweet Pea is ready to make his exit anytime soon. Partly because it’s still surreal to think that I could go into labor and have a baby any day now, but also because there haven’t been too many signs that labor is on its way either.

At my 38-week appointment on Tuesday, I received some very disappointing news that Sweet Pea is once again in the breech position.  After another ultrasound to verify the position, it was discovered that I have higher than normal levels of amniotic fluid for 38 weeks.  Because of the higher amount, Sweet Pea is still able to move much more easily than a 38-weeker typically could at this time.

The diagnosis left us with two options.

The doctor suggested that we can either schedule a C-section for this coming Tuesday, when I’ll be 39 weeks, or go to the hospital for an external cephalic version with the hopes that it will turn the baby head down again.

Scheduling a C-section isn’t an option for us, but we did want to hear more about what a version at the hospital entails.

An external cephalic version has a good success rate for turning babies head down, but it must be performed at a hospital because there is a chance that the baby can go into fetal distress during the procedure and require an immediate C-section.  There is also a chance that the baby will go back to breech after being manipulated into the head-down position.

If I were to do it, I’d be given two drugs – terbutaline to relax the uterus and nubain to act as a pain reliever. A doctor would then externally manipulate the baby into a head-down position while constantly monitoring the heartbeat via ultrasound to ensure the baby is handling it well.

Because I have such a high level of amniotic fluid, there is a good chance this will be successful. However, because I haven’t taken any medicine through the entire pregnancy, I can easily imagine Sweet Pea not reacting kindly to two very strong drugs while being manhandled from the outside. It’s easy to see why a baby could go into fetal distress during a procedure like this!

After hearing our options, Kevin and I met with Jen, our Bradley teacher, later that night to discuss what we should do. As I’ve successfully flipped the baby head down before, we decided to delay doing the version this week and attempt to naturally turn the baby ourselves.

I booked an appointment with a chiropractor who is known as the best at flipping babies in Charlotte, and also had another moxibustion treatment as well. I’m not really sure what helped the baby move head down last time, so I’m just doing all the same tricks over again.

Our 39-week appointment is scheduled for Monday, and if the baby is still breech at that point, we will likely schedule a version for the following day, or whenever they can fit us in.

I was pretty upset after hearing the news, but I’m feeling more at peace with it now that I’m a few days out from the initial disappointment.

I really have no idea if the baby is still breech or head down either. I think both positions feel the same to me!  I’m holding on to the hope that my little one is just doing its own thing for now, but when labor comes, he will swan dive to right where he’s supposed to be.

And if not, the fact that I’m going to meet this sweet little baby sometime soon makes me feel incredibly thankful as well. While the birth is just a few moments of our story, there is so much more to come.

Weight Gain: No gain this week, so still holding steady at 30 pounds.
Cravings: Anything sweet. I am turning into a sugar addict and having dessert pretty much every day at this point.
Favorite Pregnancy Pastime: Warm baths!  I’ve always loved baths and now they are especially delightful. If I can deliver naturally, I think I’ll really like laboring in the tub. And if I’m ever pregnant in the future, I’d also definitely consider doing a water birth at a birth center.
Sleep: It was going pretty well, but after hearing the breech news, I’ve been waking up a lot more through the night.

Full term!

If I give birth to Sweet Pea this week, she won’t be considered premature. Best of all, if I go into labor, I can now stay at home for a decent amount of time rather than rushing to the hospital right away.

At 37 weeks, Sweet Pea is anywhere from 6 ½ to 7 pounds. Weight gain and length are pretty much negligible now because it just depends on how big of a baby you’ll have at birth. From here on out, baby could be hanging out at around 7 pounds or maybe even 9 pounds.

I was a 7-pounder at birth and my mom-in-law is pretty sure that Kevin was around 9 pounds. I’d be okay with an average of the two!

Now that I’ve hit the full-term mark, I’ve finished my to-dos and now we sit and wait. The nursery is complete, all baby items washed and put away, and our carpets have never looked better thanks to a professional cleaning earlier this week. (Three years of dog hair adds up!).

I think The Bump’s 37-week update says it best:

Around week 37, many moms-to-be find themselves organizing cupboards and scrubbing their floors. That’s the nesting instinct kicking in as your body senses baby will be here shortly. It also might be your brain’s way of making sure you’re prepared for just about anything, so you can feel like you have an extra edge on this whole new parent thing.

Yes, yes and yes.

I’m on the lookout for signs of labor but have little to report so far. I did have a fairly intense Braxton Hicks contraction last night – one that left me unable to move too. Normally, I can stand up and go about other activities while having a Braxton Hicks, but this one left me immobile.  It was accompanied with cramping in the lower abdominal area and lasted for a decent amount of time.

I think this kind of contraction is considered part of prodromal labor, also known as false labor. This website offers a great explanation of what prodromal labor feels like.  I only experienced one contraction with this kind of intensity though, and the others that followed were similar to what I’ve felt in the past.

I’m hoping to have another one soon (or just go into full-fledged labor) so I can practice for the big day. When it happened last night, I was already in bed and attempting to get out of bed to go the bathroom.

As the contraction hit, I pretty much laid there and yelled to Kevin something along the lines of “WHAT THE HECK! I CAN’T EVEN MOVE! OHHH MAN! LOOK AT MY STOMACH! IT LOOKS NUTS! DO YOU SEE THIS?!”

There were a few periods of silence too, as it did take my breath away a bit. But mainly, I yelled random things and disregarded any relaxation techniques learned in Bradley.

And this is why going into labor is like riding a bike.

You can prepare all you want, but you can’t figure out how you’re really going to handle it until you’re up and riding. And if my first stint with labor doesn’t end with crashing into telephone poles, brick walls, and stitches in my forehead, I’ll consider it a success.

On that note, my six-year-old self would like to say that brakes that require back pedaling to stop are seriously confusing.

Weight Gain: 30 big ones, baby.
Cravings: Frozen yogurt! With the 100+ degree temperatures outside, I’ve convinced coworkers to go for froyo runs twice this week.
Gender Guesses: Kevin and I both really feel like this baby is going to be a boy. We’ll see if we’re right! I’ll be surprised no matter what, but I think I’ll be more surprised if Sweet Pea is a girl.
Sleep: I don’t have insomnia, but I wake up a lot through the night. I now require my pregnancy pillow, a head pillow, a back pillow and another that usually ends up between my feet.