I moved my weekly midwife appointment up to today. I’ve been feeling queasy since Monday and needed some relief. It’s definitely a new discovery to be nauseous (I can’t ever spell that word correctly!) and starving at the same time.
Sitting in the waiting room, looking at the other patients/spouses as my stomach turned upside down and inside out, it was really tempting. I thought, “You know, if I was having a repeat cesarean, I’d be having a baby tomorrow…”
If only it didn’t go against everything I believe- not that I think elective sections are wrong… it’s just wrong for ME right now.
I almost had myself talked into it. Then I heard that small, still voice inside that said, “Don’t rush him, Whitney, he’ll be here on his own time…”
Although, it’s still tempting to clean house like a mad woman, chow down on eggplant parmesan, and take a dose of castor oil, I know that his delivery will go a lot smoother if he comes when HE’S ready.
Now I know that I am doing the right thing.
...and then she flew. 