Today shall be a day of trying to remember how very blessed I am.
Yesterday was not that day.
At my weekly visit to the doctor we again asked if they could do the c-section earlier, and they again said no. But everything is "normal." I haven't dilated anymore past 1 cm., and the baby still hasn't moved.
My hormones are raging out of control, and I think I broke down in tears about 7 times. The thing that set me off was my discovery of hemorrhoids. My rump is painful, but not overwhelmingly so. It was more the idea. I already feel fat, can't shave my legs, have hair in places I shouldn't, huge ankles, vienna sausage toes, stomach pain all the time, and my boobs (which I used to rather like) are doing their best to turn into tube socks. I feel disgusting all the time. So the addition of the hemorrhoid was just the icing on the cake. It's just gross, and one thing that I almost got away with not having during this pregnancy... just one thing, is that too much to ask? Apparently, yes.
I've gotten to the point that I hope Evelyn doesn't flip and stays breech. I want this c-section. I don't want her to flip and then I have to wait another week or two or three past the 10th. I don't know if I can mentally handle it.
Are the last few weeks like this for every woman? Or am I particularly weak? I'm afraid to ask in case the answer is yes, I am too weak.
Anyway, I have now vented. Thank you for allowing me to do that. Evelyn, when you read this someday, I hope you don't think that I don't love you beyond measure and that you're worth every single hardship. I would give my life for you and I haven't even met you yet.
Now it's time to think happy thoughts. Like how the last 3 times I've had soda, Evelyn has gotten the hiccups (my dad and I both hiccup right after we swallow soda too). And how the nursery is completely finished. And especially how we didn't even know if I could have a baby. And how I get to meet my chubby-cheeked, pouty-lipped, blue-eyed daughter in eight days.