I'm sitting here in awe. Not at my ability to type this entry while holding my laptop at an arm's distance, but at the reason why I've been forced to master this ridiculously uncomfortable feat.
I have a huge, round belly.
I'm 37 weeks pregnant.
I'm having a daughter in 12 days.
I started this blog in a frustrated, drunken haze, angry at myself and my uterus for not giving me what I wanted - a baby. And I think I stepped away from this blog for so long because I was afraid I would never get to this point; that it was all a dream that would be taken away from me.
But now I'm full term. And it's all so real.
My wonky, bicornuate uterus you ask? It never gave me one ounce of trouble (except for the mental anguish that kept me up at night for 9 months, of course). No bed-rest. No pre-term labor scares. Heck, I never even got any morning sickness. It's been pretty, well, easy. (Please don't send me hate mail ... I'm not trying to go all Gisele Bundchen over here.)
One complication in a nearly perfect pregnancy: BumpBaby is breech. They say it's very common when you're only working with half a uterus or so. Her head is up at the very top of my uterus, so that when I lay down I swear it looks like she's standing up in my stomach. In reality, she's sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest and her bony butt poking me in the cervix. But it's OK.
I'm having a c-section on September 2 - as long as baby decides to stay put until then. I'm not one of those people who have always wanted to "experience" natural birth and all that, so I don't really care. I'm just ready to meet her, whatever way that has to happen.
So keep me in mind 12 days from now, and I promise I'll let you know how it goes. I'd love to write more, but right now I have to go waddle my way to the bathroom before my bladder explodes.