I went in for my weekly appt. today. She did a strep B culture ( I won’t know the results til next week), and if that comes out positive, it means I have to have antibiotics during labor. I think there’s a 50 percent chance either way. She said I’m 1 cm dilated, which is normal at this stage in pregnancy.
The other thing we talked about with the Dr. was something called external version, which is a way to manipulate the baby from the outside in order to turn it. You have to be hooked up to monitors and near enough to the operating room in case something goes wrong. In my case, the dr. did not recommend it because my placenta is in the front. Which means, when they twist and turn my belly (hard and painful, from what I hear), they could bruise or rupture my placenta. So, that’s not really in the picture.
There are other ways to try to get the baby to turn, including propping an ironing board up on the couch and laying feet up in the air to try to sink the baby up into my lungs area. Then, when I stand up again, she’ll have to turn over in the right position. They recommend doing this for 10 minutes several times a day. Also, I can play music through earphones where I want her head to go. There are a few other things that I’m going to do as well.
So all that time we thought we were patting her little bum when in fact it was her head. If I had someone stroking my head all the time, I’d want to stay there, too! We’ll have to stop doing that. Another thing is that I think the baby can sense tension and whether I’m ready for her to come out. She is conscious in the womb, and I know she can feel whether we’re ready for her or not. I think I need to talk to her more, remind her that we really do want her and that it’s ok to turn over and meet us.
Sorry for the despondent post yesterday, but when you make plans and expectations and then all of a sudden you have to change them, it is almost like the death of an idea. In our case, the idea was a well controlled normal delivery. Is God trying to teach me something here? I’m sure…me being the control freak I am. Let go, Stacy, let go baby.