Measurements Week 38

It is a blessed thing that there is not much to report. Here we are, two weeks our from our due date, and lil’ Meggie is just cruising along. After our minor upset (see last post) everything has been fine and rather uneventful. Meg’s left ankle gets swollen after a long day. And sometimes her right one too. And sometimes her hips bother her at night when she lays too long on one side. But other than that, she simply gets progressively larger in all the right places. And she has taken up snoring in her spare time.

We had a very nice weekend. Saturday was home maintenance and chores, along with some garage time. Sunday was raking the yard, thinning the wood pile, meeting with a potential day care provider, more raking in the yard and garden, and then delivering a load of wood to Tia for her birthday. Then joining in celebration with burgers on the grill and fizzy drinks in the sunny back yard of the Keobounpheng home. Later, after a tour of the Sean and Phon home and after ice cream and strawberries, Silo and Jw played panda bear and cow and spoke in french.

The Week in Numbers:

• Girth: 43 inches (Forty Three Inches!)
• Movement: decidedly less since jr. flipped head down. Hiccups. Little foot kicks. He is preparing, meditating on the miracle of birth and life cycle of all humans.
• Meg is beginning to waddle somewhat. In general, things are requiring more effort and grunting. She is short of breath, as well.
• Braxton-Hicks contractions are frequent but light. They kind of take her breath away, and her belly hardens to a soft rock.
• Both mama and papa can feel jr’s presence. It’s almost as if the baby is an all-knowing spirit before he takes a human form, at which time he reverts back into a little child. He talks to papa in his dreams, telling him profound and mysterious truths. Meg buys him cute clothes in her dreams.
• We are in a good mood, excited, and feel prepared for this thing. Bring it on little cookie.

Speed Bump Named Frank

We’ve been cruising along in 5th gear all throughout this pregnancy. Meg has been, all things considered, fine and dandy. Thank goodness. It has been smooth cruising. Until last Monday.

Meg went in for a routine checkup with our midwife Katherine on Monday. When Katherine performed a quick check to see where junior’s head was, she couldn’t find it. So she sent Meg to get an ultra-sound the next afternoon (Tuesday). Sure ‘nuf, little baby was breeched. Frank breech, to be exact. Which is:

Frank breech: The fetus’ buttocks are aimed toward the birth canal and the legs stick straight up in front of the body. The feet are near the head.

Ouch. The little person was all jammed up near Meg’s ribs. No wonder she was riding so high. Breech generally means the mother will have a C-section, at least in our part of the world. Especially this late in the 4th quarter (week 37). They don’t deliver breech babies at our hospital. And this was not our plan. Katherine said “Welcome to parenthood, where things don’t go according to plan.”

So after some amount of worry and tears on Meg’s part, and befuddled confusion on Jw’s part, we came up with a plan after some research into the matter. Meg contacted her trusty acupuncture practitioner, Dr. Who, and received a moxibustion treatment on her toes. Then Meg contacted her mothering community: “WTF? My baby is breeched!” She got some great feedback. Most responded with “Get your but in the air!”

So Meg was pulling yoga moves in her free moments like a regular Mahamandaleshwar Paramhans Swami Maheshwarananda. Mainly she looked like an inverted boomerang, with her belly hanging low and free. She continually stroked her belly in counter-clockwise rotations, which was the direction junior needed to flip. And she built an inversion table in the living room with the ironing board and some pillows so she could elevate her feet way above her head. A position which caused her significant discomfort, but was reputedly beneficial for short periods.

For papa’s part, there was much persuasive belly talk. Junior and papa had some private time, and there were some tears cried. Papa put forth a very reasonable argument as to why junior should flip to a head down position. The reasons were as follows:

1. Hey, it’s way more comfortable.
2. All the kids are doing it.
3. It’s better for you.
4. It saves mother some trauma, and annoying feelings of “not living up to her womanly potential.”
5. It keeps your options open. Otherwise somebody else decides when you arrive.
6. Papa will be so proud of you.
7. Mom said so.

Junior seemed to hear this, and deem it reasonable with a couple movements and hickups.

Then, early Wednesday evening, our neighbors Mark and Sarah brought over an inversion table, which they are trying to sell on Craigslist. It was just what we needed to cap off our baby rotation exercises. Meg spent some time slowly inverting herself on the table to about a 25% angle, and held it there for a few minutes. It seemed to help.

Thursday morning we rose early to head to the hospital. We had scheduled a procedure, called ” External cephalic version” (turning the fetus to the vertex position by external manipulation) which involved some drugs and a lot of hands-on pushing and shoving to get the baby head down. This was something we were really hoping to avoid. One: it was bound to be terrifically uncomfortable for Meg. Two: who knows what it does to junior. Three: drugs, which we are trying to avoid at all costs. Four: sometimes it puts a mother into labor.

So we walked over to the hospital, to the same floor where we’ll be delivering in a couple weeks. A very nice nurse helped us get organized and wait for the Doctor. She strapped on the fetal monitor unit, and papa got to hear the heartbeat for the first time. (133 bpm!)

While we waited, our mid-wife happened to be in, and she came to visit us. Katherine decided to do a quick ultra-sound to see where the baby was. She gelled up the unit and put it to Meg’s belly. She started laughing. “Your baby is a little stinker” she said. “That’s the head. And the head is down!” Meg and I couldn’t help but to tear up a bit. We high-fived. We were so proud of our little baby. It had decided to flip on its own. “Welcome to parenthood” said Katherine. “Where things don’t go according to plan!”

Unborn Babe Cold-Cocks Father From Womb

MINNEAPOLIS – In a bold move played Sunday evening by the unborn and as yet unnamed child of M & Jw, meant apparently to establish the pecking order of the W household, Baby W sent a 5 knuckled telegram to Mr. W’s chin from the comfort of his mother’s womb.

“I was telling him to get to sleep” explained the still bewildered father-to-be, rubbing his chin. “The Mrs. had to get up early for work, and Jr. was wrestling around in there like it was a cage match. So I put my lips to her round belly, as I do most nights, and I told him to put his toys away and get to bed. And that’s when he got me with an uppercut. A good one too” he added. Apparently Baby W had grown weary of being told what to do.

Mrs. W had only chuckles about the event. “Oh boy. We expect a real fire cracker now don’t you know.” It stands to reason that this may be the first ever recorded case of prenatal time-outs accruing. “You know” surmised Mrs. W in closing “perhaps it was the curry.” Only time will tell. The expectant family has less than one month before the big match.