We start with good news. In fact that should probably be Good News.
Because as of yesterday morning a lovely lovely scan shows a nice healthy 4cm gap between the edge of the placenta and the Little Bump’s way out, and as my consultant’s comfort zone for me giving birth in the traditional manner started at 2cm and 4 is bigger than 2, I’m no longer considered to have a low lying placenta. No more talk of sunroof exits and no need for more scans.
Phew. I don’t think I’d really admitted even to myself how much that was worrying me. I know there’s a million and one reasons why I could still end up needing a C-section and if it happens, it happens, but I’m glad it’s not automatic at this stage. Mostly, if I’m honest it was the thought of loosing a week of time to prepare for the baby, because I’m not expecting natural labour to start any time before 40 weeks, and the concern about how I would manage living in a small village with an erratic bus timetable with two small children if I couldn’t drive for a while.
So that weight lifted off my shoulders aside, how are we?
Well the good news just kept on coming. Little Bump is currently head down (long may you stay that way my child), and measuring perfectly on the 50th percentile line on my growth chart. If he or she were born right now the predicted weight would be somewhere in the region of 5lb 10oz. People have actual full term perfectly healthy babies that weigh that much, no wonder I keep being asked whether I’m due any minute now! If the charts are accurate, and if Little Bump keeps growing at this sort of rate I’m predicted a 9lb baby at 40 weeks and I resolutely refuse to translate the weights beyond 40 weeks back into pounds and ounces for the sake of my sanity.
And as my thyroid is also behaving itself (for once) I have been discharged from the high risk clinic and sent back to my lovely community midwives at the GP.
It wasn’t exactly, “bye bye, see you on the labour ward”, but it wasn’t far off.
I wrote before about how being high risk, for whatever perfectly valid and understandable reason, can make you really long to be ‘normal’ and boringly low risk and so to find myself now in that situation is a gift I am incredibly thankful for.
Physically I’m doing OK; I can still definitely tell when I’ve overdone it and my walking goes from waddling to little old lady hobbling at the end of the day but for the most part that eases off with a good sit down, a good night’s sleep or a bath. The only real development other than getting bigger and bigger and bigger has been the arrival of a nice smattering of new stretch marks across the top of my tummy (or at least those are the ones I can see), to join the tiger stripes left by the big sisters. Ah well, it’s a small price to pay; and it’s not like I was a big bikini wearer even before I had Kitty, let alone now!
In the crazy pregnant lady stakes I think (I hope) that some of this week’s wobbles are at least in part due to a little internalised stress about the scan, and winding up my last few days at work.
Now hopefully I can concentrate on such important tasks as getting to the start of my maternity leave without my work dresses becoming indecently short; knitting like the wind on the Little Bump’s blanket; booking the pedicure that my sister treated me to as a birthday present; and of course the vital cleaning out of my car, which apparently only happens when I’m heavily pregnant.
But before all of that I have Germany in the office world cup sweepstake and I think this means I need to find a really great recipe for Black Forest Gateau for our department to eat to celebrate!