So today's my due date. If things had gone swimmingly well, I would have hopefully had a VBAC in the past week, or a scheduled c-section tomorrow or Tuesday (my birthday!). Instead, I have a 15-day-old sleeping in a crib. Although he still looks like a baby with IUGR (comparatively large head, skinny belly, scrawny limbs, and even more wrinkly skin than your average newborn), I can tell he's plumped up since his last doctor visit, and just in the past few days,as predicted, he's started acting more like a baby and less like a fetus (he has eyes! he especially loves looking at his sister!).
Tiny Boy is clearly doing better in the world than in my body, which is both a marvelous thing and another reproductive strike against me. Both my "full term" pregancies have been cut short for medical reasons, and I miss that intrauterine time, just as I miss the miscarried embryos who never had a chance to become a child. It's hard for me to get my head around the fact that I will, in all likelihood, not be pregnant again. Because for all its complications, I like the experience of pregnancy.
But having two extra weeks of babyness? Right now, that seems like a damn good trade-off.
No comments:
Post a Comment