I had my 32 week checkup with the doctor yesterday and it was a bit confusing. I've had every confidence in this doctor since day one and then yesterday happened. He came into the room and confessed that his brain wasn't working right. So I told him to tell me what was going on and I could probably help him figure things out. I mean I haven't watched ER all my life to not know a thing or two about medicine.
Turns out, he was confused on my due date. He was thinking that I was at 38 weeks and would be having this baby really soon. I assured him that I was only 32 weeks and that she wasn't done cooking yet. So once we got my due date straightened out I thought I would try to pin him down on a date for the c-section. And that's when he looked at me and said "you want to have a c-section?" And I said "um, you told me I had to have one..."
After going into his office and refamiliarizing himself with who I was and my labor history with Jake, his professional opinion was that yes indeed, I should have a c-section. Glad we got that cleared up. He did tell me I could try for a VBAC if I wanted to suffer. But I'm not so much into suffering. So, we've set the date for Emma's arrival to be Thursday, March 12th at 7:30am. Can you let a mama sleep in a little longer please?
I can't wait to see her, but I'm feeling a little nostalgic already about giving all my attention to Jake. At least I was until this morning when he had a complete meltdown because I wouldn't let him have candy for breakfast. Because that's our normal routine. Candy for breakfast, cookies for lunch and ice cream for dinner. Now I'm thinking our little family of three desperately needs this little girl to get here to at least create some sort of diversion from all the drama of the terrible two's. I'm also praying that my doctor will know who I am on March 12th and give me a c-section instead of taking off a leg or something.