Well yesterday was crazy.
The baby did great on the NST, which was a relief. When my OB came in the room, she started by telling us that the baby is above the 3rd percentile in growth, which is good, but is less than 10%, which is not-so-good. Then, without ceremony, she said "So we're going to deliver at 37 weeks."
I really wasn't surprised by this at all, but all of the blood left my husband's face. I've never seen him look like that before in my life! He kind of gasped out loud. He looked like he might cry or throw up. My OB kept glancing at me like "is he going to be okay?"
We discussed the things that may happen after delivery, and the necessity of a c-section in this case. I asked if any tests would be done to determine lung function, and she said quite bluntly no, because it doesn't matter, he needs to come out regardless of how his lungs are. I asked if I'd get a steroid shot and she said there's really no use for it after 34 weeks.
So, that's settled. I was feeling pretty okay with it all, besides being concerned for A. He still looked quite shaken. All in all, it took him about an hour to come to terms with the fact that we have just a few days remaining in this pregnancy, as opposed to the weeks he thought we had.
The timing works great this way. He's on break between semesters, so he'll have a solid three weeks to stay home with me and the baby before going back to work. I'm happy about that, especially since I'll need TLC too while I'm recovering from the c-section.
Me? Well, my emotions are all over the place. I am a bit of a mess.
Overall, I'm excited to meet my son on Tuesday. I'm also scared that he won't be as healthy as he would have been if he could have baked a bit longer. I'm terrified that he'll have to go to the NICU and I'll have hours or days before I can hold him. I feel sort of like a failure that I can't grow him any longer. I thought IUGR was usually an issue with uterus shape or something, which I didn't think I needed to worry about.
I'm a little sad that I'll never experience any labor. I'll never know what a contraction feels like. It's disappointing, but it kind of fits the theme of how this pregnancy began: everything was very clinical, scientific, deliberate. No room for having a bottle of wine and a romantic evening to conceive your child - we're doing the painful retrieval, ICSI, just about as interventionist as you can possibly get. Similarly, there's no time to languish at home, waiting for contractions and a bloody show, 18 hours of labor. Nope, get that baby out of there so he can start growing.
I'm quite nervous about how all of this will impact breastfeeding. The issue of his growth puts a lot of pressure on me to produce and do it well and do it quickly. Also, if he can't be with me right away, we're kind of setting ourselves up for problems in that department, aren't we?
I'm a little scared of a c-section. Not too scared, because I know so many women who have had one that it can't be that bad, but just scared of something new happening to my body involving a scalpel and lots of anesthesia.
I'm overwhelmed to know exactly what day my pregnancy will end. I will wake up on Tuesday and that's the last day I'll be pregnant for years - what if it's my last day, ever, being pregnant? I'm trying to memorize the way this little one feels when he moves inside me, because what if I never feel that again?
So yeah, lots of strands in the old duder's head here. I'm going to keep busy this weekend cleaning and trying to get a lot of rest. In just a week we'll be home from the hospital with our baby.