Well, it's not like we got Sam in there and cooking in the most traditional way, so I guess it's pretty darn fitting that we aren't getting him out the traditional way either. Doctors put you in, doctors pull you out - we are a very all natural family.
Let's back it up.
So, we had our 38 week doctor appointment yesterday. As per usual, my belly was measuring in the Mt. Everest/Kilimanjaro range at a little more than 41 weeks and even a two year can see that it's a big baby in there. This is not rocket science. The kid is enormous.
My doctor ordered the "fat baby ultrasound" for today. That is (not) the medical term for it, obviously, but it's what I called it. It's a late term ultrasound to get an idea on his size. It's the "will he?" "won't he?" fit ultrasound. They can be super inaccurate at predicting weight - up to 30% off - so we knew we would take the information with grain of salt.
The ultrasound - we had it this morning - showed that Sam has indeed gotten a tad too big. By a tad, I mean a lot. As in his belly has accumulated lots and lots of fat in the last few weeks and is literally measuring off the charts. His head could probably fit, but the difference between head, shoulders, and belly - well, we would for sure have an "I'm stuck!" situation. Using his bone length, belly size, and head size, the estimate is 11 pounds 3 ounces.
I know. I asked if there was a problem or something to worry about, because I'm obviously panicked and handling this super well (nope), but the doctors have assured us there isn't. A small belly would concern them. Big means he is having a great time in there.
So, they are pulling the plug on us Saturday. Sam will be cooked to 39 weeks and will get to see the world on a beautiful Seattle spring day. We did our homework and the reasoning they've given us for the scheduled "c" has been fully supported by several medical reports and studies that Chuck somehow found in the limited time that we had to process this all (and I promise none of them were web forums or mommy blogs - the doctor actually referenced the same studies). Thank God Chuck's smart and learn-ed because I was a hot mess.
I cried a lot today because I had this picture in my head of what birth would be like and desperately wanted to feel what (though horrible, terrible, and awful) is what women are made to feel and endure. And it doesn't help that I missed out on other experiences getting to this pregnancy with IVF. I feel like I lost another little piece of "normal" today.
But then I back up. And take in some perspective.
It's a miracle that I'm pregnant in the first place. And it's a miracle I'll get to hold my biological baby on Saturday, a dream that nearly escaped us and has escaped plenty of couples. Yes, he will be the huge baby that is birthed into 12 month onesies via a scheduled c-section and will need his fat rolls wiped out, but he will be ours and he will be here on Saturday.
We are almost four years to the day of when Chuck and I first decided we wanted to start a family. I will take that family any way it comes, so C-Section Saturday it is.