It was exactly two months until my due date yesterday, less than nine weeks. I'm not sure how the time went marching by so quickly. I'm at every two weeks for doctor appointments now, shortly to move to every week.
At my appointment last week, my blood pressure was normal, my measurements were on target and I had gained a pound (bringing me up to only seven pounds below my pre-pregnancy weight). Wulfrith is still head-up. He wanders a bit, slouching down into my pelvis like a hammock and using my hipbone as a pillow, then bracing his feet on my cervix and bladder to provide leverage for jamming his head in my ribs (fun!). But what he shows no interest in is moving his head below the top of my right hip.
I've pretty much decided to just go ahead and schedule the c-section. I can cancel it if he turns, but I'm not feeling a lot of confidence in that happening and it will make me feel better to have things arranged. I don't think trying to turn him with an external version is a good option since 1) all of the evidence is pointing to something structural keeping him in this position, so even if we manage to turn him, I doubt he would stay, and 2) they administer drugs to prevent labor when they do the version, which have the very common side effect of speeding up your heart. Given that I already take medication for tachycardia, that doesn't seem like a great choice.
Two months is an amount of time that seems to be able to stretch or contract magically. It doesn't seem long at all when I look at the list of things I still want to do. But when the reflux burns up my throat, my hips ache and I lose the ability to do simple math, it seems way too long.
Ira Glass is on The Colbert Report right now. It's so weird to hear a radio voice come out of someone's face.
K is being treated for a UTI. Poor little bunny. I say treated because we're not going to have the results of the urine culture until next week (and if you think it's fun to try and pee in a tiny cup, try having to hold the cup for a stubborn three-year-old who doesn't want to give a urine sample. On the plus side, three years of motherhood has gotten me to the point that a little bit of someone else's urine on my hand is nothing to me. As bodily fluids go it's one of the least offensive and at least a hand can be easily washed under a faucet. Ah, how our standards change). But when your child has to pee every three minutes, complains of her lower abdomen hurting and pain when she pees and has developed a fever, it doesn't take the OED to spell out UTI.* After two doses of antibiotic, she was doing well enough this morning for us to send her to preschool without a qualm. She was pretty wiped out by the end of the day and developed a mild fever, but she's pretty clearly on the mend.
*Another symptom of UTIs in small children that I hadn't known about before? Lots of wetting accidents. Going through four pairs of pants on Monday was actually the first thing that had me thinking UTI, but it was actually because I know that peeing all over the place is a symptom in cats, and this somehow made me make a mental leap. So if your previously relatively reliable child suddenly starts wetting themselves, take heed.