I showed up for my appointment yesterday with Dr. Risky feeling the worst I’ve felt in months. My hyperemesis was raging, my sciatic is pinched, blah blah I felt really awful. Dr. Risky came up to me while I was being weighed, saw that I was down two pounds since last week, and said, “Hey Heather, how are you feeling?” I was actively trying not to puke right when she said that, so I only managed a grunt in response. Sorry, Dr. Risky.
In the exam room, Risky Nurse listened to The Acrobat’s heart and measured my fundal height, and proclaimed The Acrobat a “happy baby.” Then she said, “Do you have any questions for Dr. Risky, other than ‘when am I having this baby?'” Mike laughed and I told her that was the only question with an answer I cared about.
When Dr. Risky walked in, she dropped my chart on the counter and said, “Want to have this baby on Thursday?” I replied “YES!” Then she jokingly said, “Want to have this baby right now?” And I watched Mike turn pale. I happily would have let her take the baby out right there, in her office, with no anesthesia. Dr. Risky and her nurses made a few calls, and now I am officially on the books for a c-section on Thursday late-morning.
Since the appointment I’ve had several uncomfortable contractions, but nothing regular. I’m determined to make it to Thursday morning so I can experience a “normal,” non-emergency c-section. I can do two more days of feeling like this. I might have to crawl or limp over the finish line, but I’m going to finish.
Annabel is beside herself with excitement. She says she can’t wait to “hold his tiny hands and see his eyes and give him lots of kisses.”
I can’t wait to finally have two of my children meet each other.