On Sunday night I started to really feel foul. I know the last month of pregnancy isn't supposed to be a high energy time, but this was really something exhausting and uncomfortable.
Thinking I was in labor, I went to the doctor on Monday after tracking irregular contractions about 7-10 minutes apart. She said that our little Ham Slice wasn't even close to coming out, and that the reason I felt so yucky was that he had turned almost completely breech.
We went for a quickie ultrasound, and sure enough, he was laying across my belly like a Miss AMERICA sash with his buns lodged off center in my pelvis and his head in my right lung.
So now we're scheduled to try to have him turned (Versioned is the medical term) on Friday morning, with an immediate induction after that to get him out. If that doens't work, it's C Section time.
I told Hambone that Ham Slice was acting "Just like a Man" and isn't asking for directions to find the right way out. Hambone says he thinks the baby has inherited his Mother's sense of direction.
Either way, Friday is the day. We're all looking forward to that. In the mean time, I am staying at home under doctor's directions to "keep your butt above your head as much as possible." We'll see how that work out for me.