28 Weeks

I met with the midwives again this week. Actually, I met with just Kristi Higgs. She's one of the midwives that I know the best. All is on track. My uterus is no longer measuring large. She was just barely pressing on my belly trying to figure out Peek-a-boo's position. She couldn't quite tell. I asked her why she was being so freakishly gentle. She said it might hurt.

"Who...you? The baby?"

"No, you!"

"Um, not a problem. I feel for this guy's position all the time. It doesn't hurt."

So, she pushed a little firmer and felt that hard, tennis-ball-sized noggin. Yup, head down. Still time to flip around before delivery, but fun to know what he's up to now. Her manipulations woke him up, though. And as she was trying to place the fetal Doppler to measure his heart rate, he kicked her hand. He wriggled and writhed, more kicking, making it difficult to get a good measurement.

"His heart rate is 150, which is great for being so active right now. I like to see a good, feisty baby responding to stimuli."

When I told the kids this story at dinner, they were jumping out of their seats with laughter.  Especially the part about Peek-a-boo kicking her hand.

I went through my newborn clothes today...sufficient, but a little sparse. I'm waffling between "bare minimum hassle" and "he's our last...is there anything I want to try differently this time around?" I suspect this will be a common theme in my experience with Peek-a-boo.