All of this prayer and time and effort to keep Seven safely inside, growing, maturing, getting ready for birth ...
And now, all we can think of is orchestrating his or her exit plan. :-)
At my 34 week appointment yesterday, my OB and I started talking about ways to to help ease this little wonder into the world. Seven is head down, engaged, measuring two weeks ahead, and big. The current guesstimate is 8 lbs., which is on target with my past pregnancies at this stage of development. Since I'm dilating and effacing quite nicely already, it shouldn't be rocket science to get this show under way.
But then again, one never knows. God is in charge. And for all we know, He wants Seven to weigh 14 lbs. and be born in September!
But just in case He doesn't mind giving me a slightly smaller little person to cuddle, we're making preparations for a birth sometime in the next week or two. Seven will be born at a local hospital with just Mr. Blandings and I on hand, taking the lead and probably driving the staff nuts with our lack of concern for their protocol over our wishes. Thus far, I've been blessed with deliveries requiring very little in the way of medical oversight; due to the timing of my births (earlier than average) and the size of our babies, we've felt that to give birth outside of a safety-net environment would be somewhat reckless. After all, I managed a 10 lb., 2 oz. baby with only one tear before ... but what if this time a shoulder was stuck? (shudder) What if the "above average" blood loss I experienced once before was worse? (eek) What if ....?
As always, we're assuming and praying for the best. I've never had an epidural, only had an IV once, and never required more than a little over-the-counter painkiller after the birth. I would love to experience the same beautiful, gentle birthing again, but you know what? If I don't, I won't be crushed. I won't feel cheated, defeated, or slapped. Why? Because to me, just having a healthy baby at the end of the journey is enough. I don't care how Seven gets here. I don't have anything to prove. I don't care what the environment is like, how dim the lights are, or if the right song is playing. If I end up with a c-section, an epidural, pitocin, whatever ... I really don't care. What I want is to meet my baby. Period.
So get ready. Soon enough, God willing, it will be time to meet Seven.