Date Set

I talked to my doctor last night. He pretty much gave me two options. A) Stay pregnant until the baby comes or until I am past 41 weeks pregnant and then we will talk about induction or a c-section or B) schedule a c-section sometime after my due date.

Bret is convinced that the baby is already bigger than Palmer was and will most likely not fit already. I am a VBAC (aka trying to have a vaginal birth after a c-section) so inductions are a little higher risk for me. If I am going to have a c-section I figure why wait another 10+ days. So we have a section date scheduled for Tuesday. I have a doctor's apt on Monday and if by some miracle the baby decides to come before then or at my next apt I find out that I am well on my way towards going into labor on my own we can rethink the scheduled date.

It actually has been kind of a relief to have a plan in place. Although physically impossible it sometimes feels like I am going to be pregnant forever. My in-laws come into town today (thank goodness) and I only have half a day of work today and tomorrow. Everyday this week Bret and I have made a little joke that today would be a perfect day to go into labor and everyday nothing happens. God has such an amazing way of letting us know that we are not in charge. There is a plan just not our plan and that we just have to let go. The baby will come when it is ready and how it needs to. We are just there for the ride.

The last few days Bret has been home with the kids by himself. Thank goodness his parents are coming today for all of their sake. I still say it is good for him and the kids to spend this time together and for him to get a feel for what a couple days with the kids at home is like. It is a suttle reminder as to why the house is not always picked up with dinner on the table even though you are home all day. He has been a great sport about it though. He made candy jewelry with Emily's new toy, read a ton of books, colored, played with playdoh, and is now as tired as I am of Lightening McQueen. I ignore the fact that the kids may still be in PJ's when I get home and that the living room floor is no where to be seen. My husband is a great dad but not really stay at home dad material.