The day of my 36-week midwife appointment, I was feeling very sorry for myself. I had a sinus infection and a pounding headache, Pickle was doing headstands on my cervix, and every part of me ached after I’d decided – foolishly – to go for a walk that afternoon.
“How are you feeling this week?” my midwife asked.
“Uncomfortable!” I replied, miserably. “I’ve got a sinus infection, and it feels like the baby has dropped down even more.”
“Let’s check him out,” she said, helping me onto the bed. “No wonder! He’s 4/5 engaged…”
“I thought he might be,” I groaned. “There’s a lot of pressure down there.”
We talked about my cold and I agreed to make a doctor’s appointment for the following Monday. I got ready to leave. My midwife stopped me.
“If you’re still this uncomfortable next week, and if your cold has gone AND baby is still this far down, we could look at doing a sweep…”, she said slowly. “It’s not necessary, but something for you to consider…I’d be happy to deliver your baby any time after 37 weeks.”
I left the appointment with these words racing through my head. I’d been over my pregnancy for weeks, and the idea of it being over, and meeting our little fella, was immensely appealing.
I sent a text a close friend in Rotorua who was due two weeks before me. “Man, I’m only 2/5 engaged!” she wrote. “The race is on! ;-)”
A week later, I was having lunch with friends, and after two slices of thin-crust pizza, I was struggling to eat any more. I thought it was strange, but put it down to the two muffins I’d eaten earlier.
However, at my midwife appointment at 3.30 that afternoon, I was surprised to learn that Pickle was 0/5 engaged and had turned posterior; the inability to eat was in fact because my stomach was once more being pushed up into a tiny space in my chest. I left the appointment feeling disappointed; no doubt this baby was going to be on time (or late!) after all.
I sent a text to the friends I’d lunched with, and said the same thing to my parents when I collected Tiny again: “This baby’s playing games with me! Looks like he’s settling in for a while longer.”
After dinner that night, I felt the first Braxton Hicks contraction I’d had in a few days. “You know what?”, I said to Tall. “I’m actually glad he’s popped back out. I thought I was ready for him, but I don’t think I am!”
(Read Part Two here)