Everything is starting to get a little nearer now, still a month off but very close. This week I had my check up with my midwife (for 34 weeks), where thankfully I was only measuring a week ahead of my dates and I wasn’t deemed too large thus requiring a scan. I was relieved that my bump size had plateaued somewhat and there was otherwise no cause for concern.
I was duly weighed as I hadn’t been on the scales since the beginning of the pregnancy and being a little old school, I still work in stones and not kilograms so I wasn’t entirely sure of the weight gain. The midwife however said that it was more weight gain than they would expect and proceeded to quiz me about my diet. It wasn’t until I got into my car and converted the kilograms on my phone that I realised it worked out to more or less exactly two stones weight gain. The way she was talking, I was assuming I’d put on four stone! I certainly remember putting on about the same with my first child and I really don’t think that two stone is a massive amount. Anyhow, third time around, I really do take what midwives say with a pinch of salt.
I also mentioned about being tested positive for Group Strep B and was reassured that there was no further action to take, as I will be given intravenous antibiotics during my elective caesarean anyway.
So really it’s just a waiting game now and at least we will be given the date for the caesarean next week. I came across the #maternitymatters birth story link up earlier and it reminded me that I had written my birth story after I had Beastie. Of course I haven’t forgotten what happened but it’s always interesting to go back to old posts and recap on what happened rather than rely on slightly faded memories. I wrote the post when I was pregnant with my second and was due to have an elective caesarean. I wish that I had written a similar post reflecting on my experiences with my second one. Although the first birth was a lot more eventful my second (although calm and planned) was pretty scary at points. I even remember lying on the operating table making a mental note that I would not be doing it ever again. At one point it felt like I had five people sitting on my chest and the feeling of helplessness was awful.
Still here I am, about to do it all again and I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it again. It is after all, so worth it in the end. The boys are also getting more and more excited and intrigued by the arrival of their sister. They have become much more tactile with my bump in recent days and it’s lovely to see the bond starting even before she is born.