Thank You, Baby

Okay, so a real-life friend and some blogger friends have talked me off the ledge a bit from my nursing-bra tirade. I now understand that the underwire thing, at least, is explainable medically and not just another plot by male product designers to drive us certifiably insane (like this one: those paper backings they put on panty liners that have no little raised edge or anything for you to pull to peel them off). It still doesn't explain why they fit so strangely or look so sorry, but I'm learning that this is not necessarily the place to invest my post-pregnancy dollars.

Meanwhile, I may be busting out of my existing bras like the Incredible Pregnant Hulk, but at least there was this today: an ultrasound confirming that the baby's head is now clearly low in my pelvis, ready to emerge at the designated time. Which means all that child's posing (have you ever seen a pregnant woman try to get in the knees-to-chest position? It's sort of, I would imagine, like watching an elephant sit down at a table for tea.) and playing of music low on my belly (mainly James Taylor; I wonder if I should let him know of this new use for his music) actually achieved its intended end. Or not – I completely accept that those techniques could be complete hogwash, that there was nothing I could have done and doing those things simply kept me from going insane. But no matter, because what we confirmed today also means that my c-section on 1/18 will be canceled in favor of the quaint-sounding plan of waiting to go into labor naturally.

I know I could have figured out a way to deal with the surgery, and I still will if I need to, if labor becomes complicated and the c-section becomes necessary as I know it sometimes does. But I was genuinely, intensely anxious about it, and I'm so relieved and grateful to turn my attention back to the excitement of welcoming this long-awaited baby. He's keeping us on our toes by doing things on his own time. But he's heading in the right direction now.