Yeah. This kid is so grounded.
Ultrasound revealed today that the large round thing wedged under my ribcage is indeed the head and the reason it has felt like I was getting kicked in the bladder for the last two weeks is that I've been getting kicked in the bladder for the last two weeks. At least now I can say that I officially know exactly what it feels like when a 38-week fetus decides to do a somersault.
Dr. G explained that although it is sometimes possible to turn a breech baby, the odds are pretty slim that it would work for us. Apparently The Whiz is measuring in at "well over eight pounds" and the amniotic fluid is looking pretty low. So it just wouldn't be safe to attempt an external version without putting the baby at risk for some type of cardiac distress or membrane rupture or uterine rupture or placental abruption or something equally unsavory. Seeing as my main goal here is to have a live, happy baby (not a live, happy vaginally birthed baby), I'm pretty OK with this turn of events. I am sort of bummed that I won't get to experience labor this time, but it doesn't mean I won't ever experience it, and from what I hear it mainly just hurts and takes a really long time and disfigures your hoo-ha. I am nothing if not an optimist. :)
Kyle and I are less freaked-out by the c-section than we are about the fact that we now know the exact time and date that we will become parents. We spent some time this afternoon commenting to one another how odd it is that they will be letting us leave the hospital with the baby and that they don't expect us to bring it back at any point or ANYTHING. Upon further reflection we decided that it might be a good idea to go ahead and hide under the furniture and hold each other and maybe cry a little while we were down there. It felt intuitively like the right thing to do, and parenting is really just one big exercise in trusting your instincts, so I think we're off to a good start.
Surgery scheduled for tomorrow: February 26th, 2009, 5 pm central time.