It is your 35th week of gestation. You are about the size of a rather large cantaloupe. I can feel you getting ready. I can feel you doing just about everything, really. You are not a small thing any longer.
This week has been pretty low-key. I got to spend more time listening to you on the monitors. It's both amazingly exciting and oddly relaxing. I get to hear all of your movements and I am so happy that you are in there and doing well. The sound of your heart lulls me into a near sleep state and it feels so good.
We met with the doctor on Wednesday. She is pleased with your progress and says everything looks fantastic.
Apparently, the circumference of your head is apparently... large. Quite large. Not some sort of genetic abnormality large or medical issue large, but having a hard time delivering large. Now, after researching (and trust me, I do a lot of it) I am aware that not all measurements are correct. Weight measurements in utero are notoriously wrong. Your head was so far down during the ultrasound that they basically had to set the exam table to where my feet were way in the air to get the ultrasound wand to your skull. They had to measure it approximately ten times before they were satisfied.
I am not putting all my eggs in your large head basket, if you know what I mean. I refused, again, to talk c-section until we gave a natural birth a shot. Again, I'm no superhero. If a c-section is what it takes to get you into this world safely, that's what we'll do, but honestly, if I can avoid major abdominal surgery, I plan on doing just that.
I ordered some herbs that are supposed to help ready me for labor. I'll start those this week and hope that it's not all hogwash and will help get my body ready for your big day on the ninth of October. Maybe they will do nothing, but maybe they will. Or maybe the act of taking them and trying to be proactive will make me mentally ready for what's about to come. Not trying to rush you by any means, but I would really like to have the induction go as smoothly as possible.
Which is what this weekend is also supposed to do. We are going to our birth classes this weekend and hopefully preparing ourselves as a couple to have this miraculous and frightening thing happen in a few weeks. I'm not entirely sure what to expect from these classes. They are at the hospital, so I'm imagining that they will not be completely crunchy, granola.
You'll find that I am a pretty shy person in general, son. So the idea of practicing breathing in front a bunch of people and making all sorts of wild animal noises is going to be a bit... mortifying. I'm willing to do it, if it will help make things easier.
Of course, this is also why your dad has been so gung-ho this week about you coming now. He really didn't want to do the classes and if you came this week, we'd have no reason to go.
Except I paid for it already. So, we were going. Regardless.
We spent last weekend doing some serious nesting. Your room is done. Fin. No more. I have washed everything that you will possibly need in the first three months. We have things put away. We have things hung on the wall. Our hospital bag is packed and in the hall and ready to go. We are ready for you, baby.
We have the other rooms mostly there. We have your sleep area set up in our room and finally, all of the clothes up and put away. That is a miracle in and of itself. Your swing is in the living room / dining room area so it's actually some place useful. Your car seat is in the car.
You'd think your due date was imminent or something.
And I can't wait.
Thank you for being here. Thank you for joining our family. Thank you for making our little family complete.
All of my love,