Yesterday morning I woke up unable to breathe, in a huge fret, convinced the boy was turning himself head-up.
He was sideways, with his back across my stomach, pushing on both sets of ribs. And my lungs.
And my immediate thought, which I voiced, was, "You are not flipping over. Goddammit! Do you know how pissed I will be?"
I woke Nick up, and had him feel my stomach. Who knows what he was doing, but we both agreed it was new behavior, whatever it is.
It really felt like most of the boy was in my chest, with his back sideways. And since we knew he was head down, mainly we've been feeling what we think is his butt or legs poking out at the top.
He kept sticking himself rib-to-rib intermittently throughout the day.
Nick absolutely forbade me from shoving him one direction or another, as was my wont.
Which is really for the best, since I have no idea which end of his is up anyway. And you probably shouldn't shove your in-utero progeny, really.
Actually, you shouldn't shove your out-of-utero (ex-utero?) progeny either.
Maybe just blanket statement: No shoving of progeny.
I'd say no shoving, but on days you're feeling hatefully over-pregnant, random slowpoke pedestrians and people in your way on the metro are another matter entirely. Naturally.
But seriously. What if he's turned over? If they can't flip him, I'll have to have a C-section.
Which, despite the fear of hoo-ha trauma, I really don't want unless there's just no way around it, health-wise.
I spent a chunk of the day fretting and all preemptively mad.
Like that would help anything.
Like, "Oh, you turn over and you are so going to have a time-out as soon as you're out of there. Who do you think you are, getting out of head-down position?"