35 weeks with Olivia: Death by baby sock

There was a time when I would roll my eyes at the cliches of pregnancy.

Pregnancy brain? No, you’re just an idiot. Sorry.

Pregnancy Monster Hormones? Whatever. You’re in a bad mood. Don’t use your baby as an excuse to be a bitch.

Cravings? You just feel like eating.

Nesting? It’s called productivity. You’re not special. Way to not be lazy!

I am probably rolling my eyes a bit still, but The Nesting.

Oh. The Nesting.

I made lists. Detailed, orgasmic lists of things to do! To look into! To CROSS OFF!

I recently took everything out that I got from my baby showers, the last one being this past weekend, threw away the packages, and started meticulously putting things in their (sort of) proper places.

Until I realized I still had a ton of baby clothes, blankets and other related washable things and realized if I didn’t do it, I would probably make her skin peel off and OMFG PEOPLE I NEED TO DO LAUNDRY.

And laundry I did.

Over the last week, I washed every item of clothing in Seaweed’s closet with a size of 0-6 months still needing to be done, including socks, sheets, boppy covers, burp cloths, blankets—if it was washable, I washed it.

THEN I did our laundry, because hell, I was already the laundry wench so what was another three loads, you know? Why bother relaxing—I can relax when the baby comes ha.

I did six loads of laundry. And on the fourth day I rested. It was all very Genesis, except I didn’t really do anything monumental like creating heaven and earth.

Can we ever really be ready for the baby? Well, I still need to get the car seat installed and pack the hospital bag. Then I can say with a little more confidence that I am ready.

Here’s her nursery!

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Delivery update

We decided against the external version. I was already up in the air about it. Chris came to my 35-week appointment this past Tuesday and we had a good conversation about a birth plan. I asked the doctor, in his experience, does he find a lot of versions successful in breech babies? No. He said if I wanted to try it, he would and he would do it safely but he doesn’t think I am a good candidate. This is my first baby, I’m on blood thinners so he couldn’t push as hard, and I am an infertility patient.

So that settled matters and I feel much better about making that decision.

The plan is now this: Soon, I’ll get a call to schedule the C-section, sometime the first week in December. We’ll get there at 6:00 am for a 7:30 am surgery and he will do an ultrasound. IF the baby happened to go head down, he will do an exam to see if my cervix is good for an induction and he could induced me that day. If it’s not ready, he said we would discuss it then. Otherwise, the C-section will go as planned.

It feels good, having a plan. Knowing it’s up to Seaweed now if she wants to turn or not. She is obviously very comfortable with her head under my ribs. We saw from the ultrasound last Friday that her head is actually nestled lovingly on her placenta pillow, or “placentow” as Chris dubbed. So either she will move and come out hopefully the vaginal route, or she will get a shock when her home is sliced open in a few weeks and she is dragged out ass first. Her choice.

We did discuss the gentle cesarean methods and assuming she is healthy when she comes out, he is willing to do the lowered drape so I can see when she comes out, delayed cord cutting, and skin to skin in the OR. He said in order to keep the sterile field, he would walk her to the warmer, set her down and a nurse will pick her up and then hand her to me and Chris can help me hold her skin to skin since my arms could be weak. It still gives me some control over the experience.

Three weeks. Three weeks left.