The Bad side of Good News

The weekend we were doing our prenatal crash course, I started off the Friday morning feeling especially poor. Very crampy, achy, couldn't even get comfy on my pillowed couch. By evening I decided to go into Mac and get checked out.
15 hours later (ok, 5) I had the dubious prognosis of a bladder infection. I didn't believe it though.

Sure enough, the following weekend at an ultrasound, the tech started off by putting the probe quite low on my belly. She clicked on the monitor and what did we see? A big round head.

Bladder infection my eye.

I was SO relieved when she confirmed (at least she could tell me THAT much) that Jairus had finally turned to the proper position. My fears of c-section were significantly reduced.

I continued on however, in a few more weeks of intense discomfort until one night I hit upon a great idea: I started sleeping across the top of my bed with my back against the headboard. I was thrilled when I woke up the next morning and realized that...it was the first time I had woken up that night. Eureka!

However, it wasn't my brilliant idea that had finally brought relief. At the next ultrasound, I had a tech that I was now familiar with, a guy named Ron. I told him how I had been feeling much better--not nearly as much pain and cramping. He subversively told me that my fluid levels looked nearly normal and later the specialist confirmed it. Inexplicably, the excess amniotic fluid had just been absorbed!
The specialist also had another shocker to pass on: Jairus' profile now looked completely normal. There was no sign of the small jaw that they had been so painstakingly keeping track of.

I was strangely unexcited at this news. Everyone around me was ecstatic, but for some reason I was not released to feel the same jubilance. I still don't know why my last ultrasound was 'normal', but I know now why I didn't buy it.

Now that the pregnancy was 'normal' again, I dove into all the preparations that I hadn't been able to do before. My energy came back and I started making all sorts of meals to freeze--something I'd read would be really helpful after the baby came.

IF he would ever come... I went past my due date. One day, two days. A week. Eight, nine days. My midwife finally decided that we needed to consider inducing. The weekend leading into the 2 week overdue mark found us at Mac, 10pm at night, trying to decide if we should go for it.

And so we did.