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Thirty four, thirty five and thirty six weeks pregnant. Or we could just call it eight months.
By ella | November 30, 2005
I’m fat. And I am so ready to have this baby.
The worst of it is that I am actually looking forward to going into hospital to have a break from looking after the children. I actually want to go through the excrutiating pain of labour and sleep deprived first few nights with a new baby in preference to being at home with my well-behaved toddlers who sleep through the night. I need locking up.
The consultant wants me to have a C-section because I am expecting a large baby and VBAC (Vaginal Birth After Caesarean) is not without its risks. I, of course, have other ideas and plan a trial of labour because, clearly, I believe I know better than the doctors. And it’s THAT kind of attitude that has got me into all sorts of trouble in the past. I’m joking a bit of course because I have taken lots of advice from lots of different medical professionals and have decided that, overall, labour is less risky for me than major surgery and now I just need to have the consultant on my side supporting my decision. I’ll be seeing what he says tomorrow. I’ll be taking my 11 pages of summarised, researched material to my appointment. That and a wee sample. I’m sure he’ll be so thrilled to see me!
I’m due on 28th December so this year I know exactly how many shopping days there are until Christmas. It also means that I haven’t done my shopping because the baby is due after Christmas and therefore I have three and a half weeks to shop and get ready for Christmas.
So you and I both know the baby is going to come early just to teach me to be more prepared in future.
[SEE THE SPROGGING CATEGORY FOR MORE PREGNANCY POSTS]
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Categories: Pregnancy
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