Dear baby,

Gosh, pregnancy is a funny thing. So much happens in the first few months, and then towards the end it’s all just about growing. Then suddenly it’s only a few weeks until you’re here and everything starts changing again. It’s incredible.

How it all began: Peeing on a stick

This week has been tough, not least of all because I have what can probably be characterised as the flu. Yep, good timing, huh? I like to think my body knows that it can’t give birth while I feel like this and that’s what’s holding you off, because I was certain you would make your appearance this weekend. The hardest part about having the flu is I can’t take anything. So, I’m waking up in the middle of the night, with razors in my throat, trying to debate whether or not to set my blood sugar levels high with a spoonful of honey and cup of tea, or whether to push through. Suffice to say I’ve had very little sleep these last few days. I’m grateful that tomorrow is my last day of work. I’m actually pretty proud of working right into my 39th week, but I wouldn’t recommend it. The exhaustion I’ve felt since week 37 has not abated. If you ever go through this, take Mamma’s advice and give yourself time at home. Sure, you might wonder what you’ll do, but you’ll be so tired you’ll thank yourself for the break.

Pregnancy-wise, this week has been better than last in that I seem to have had normal doctors, rather than pushy people telling me what to do. On Friday, I went into the hospital to have my ECV – otherwise known as getting you turned. I have to say, it’s not the most comfortable of experiences, but also not as bad as I thought it was going to be. It didn’t hurt, though I am rather tender around the hips now from where you were stuck. Unfortunately, though, you did not want to budge. The doctor was confident, especially after you had made it past the half-way mark and only had a little way to go. For some reason though, you stopped yielding to the doctor’s hands. You refused to enter my pelvis. It’s such a shame. I really did want to do my best to have you naturally. So many people are telling me I should be grateful that I don’t have to go through labour, but I so wanted to know what it was like. I also wanted the drama of that drive to the hospital, I wanted to feel contractions, I wanted to know what it was all like. But I guess I’m just swapping one experience for another. You can’t have both. So, tomorrow I call the hospital to lock in a date to have you out. Your Dad and I are hoping it will be next Friday, which will mean you will be out before my next entry. I’ll try to write to you the day before.

It’s funny. I haven’t loved being pregnant, but I am going to miss having you in my stomach. As long as you’re there I’m not alone. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t feel lonely before you were here, but there’s something reassuring about having a little person in you, something nice about those little kicks you give me, about watching your body roll around in there. I’m going to miss that.

However, I’m looking forward to the next adventure. Sure, the next adventure doesn’t involve a lot of sleep, but it does involve cheese and wine and sushi as well as my beautiful baby girl, so I figure that makes it all OK. I just hope you’re OK. I get nervous as I only had a 6 per cent chance of getting GD and I did, only a 3 per cent chance of a breech baby, ditto. I imagine the chances of being sick for six months are also very slim. I’m thinking this will mean you’re an extraordinary person. But please, miss, let’s just calm down on developing highly uncommon symptoms for now … at least while your Dad and I try to catch our breath.

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