So here we are. Six days away from the due date. There is no sign really of anything happening any time soon, but then I’m not an expert. My last pregnancy ended in an induction and an emergency c-section, after a very medical pregnancy, so I don’t know what a contraction feels like, what it might be like to be like one of those women on One Born Every Minute and I just haven’t a clue really.
Last Tuesday, I went for my 38 week check up with the midwife and the fundal height (the measurement they take of the bump) was only 34 weeks. I was told not to worry, that this could be for any number of reasons, the way the baby is laying, how engaged the head is, how long your own body is and I was told that the growth scan was just procedure.
That was yesterday, the baby is fine, she is estimated to weigh 6lb 14oz, which is fine by me. The girls were a good size for their gestation and for them being twins but she will still seem enormous to us, I think. I wasn’t nervous by the time we went for the scan, J was, but I can feel her wriggling and squirming and that is infinitely reassuring. The radiographer showed us her little lips and nose and for some reason, that little image keeps coming back to my brain. I think I just want to meet her now.
I want this over with. I don’t, as I’ve said before, think that this is my last pregnancy, but if it is, I am trying to savour all of it. I am very small though, I could easily pass for six or seven months pregnant, I’m not sure that anyone would think that my due date is next Tuesday. I am trying to savour the kicks and the rolls as she spends her last few days inside me but the truth is, I’m tired. I’m very lucky, I’m able to sleep well still, able to walk around without any problems, but I’m tired. It’s hard to look after my girls when you feel like you could fall asleep at any moment. Isla has started waking in the night, before we go to bed usually, and I wonder if she knows that her world is about to change forever. She had a lovely time last night watching Umi Zoomi under a blanket with J and I am loathe to get cross and demand she get to bed.
This is rambly. I have so many thoughts whizzing through my head, and most of them are stupid, like how greasy my hair will be if I go into labour in the middle of the night and it’s been 18 hours since I last washed it. But mostly I’m not that scared. Maybe this is how it feels for everyone. Like it has to happen so why waste time worrying about things that can’t be changed.
Also, the girls, my little babies are four in 12 days.
TWELVE DAYS.
That’s more scary!
Fairy Lights and Fear 