Says my doctor (1 of 9 in the practice) to me today.
"We'd like you to be 2cm by 37 weeks" (that's next week kids).
Yep. Guess what, so would I!
Then he says (I should issue a disclaimer here: this guy sounds like a quack, he's not. He's a goofball and is one of those people who is funny just cause of who they are. Before he left the room this morning he asked me what I was having for lunch... with the door open. I had no pants on. Just a paper cover.) "you know we can start getting rough with things down there at 37 weeks." Nothing like something to look forward to.
So is this homework? He didn't really mention why but my assumption is that we're going to try and avoid major tearing and the smaller the baby the better. She's head down and he says (by feeling my belly) she's 6 pounds. He's done this more than I have so I believe him. Sort of.
So, homework for the week is to get to 2cm. Intersting as it's something I can't exactly 'check the progress of'. So it'll be like walking into a test and not knowing if you're ready.
Gained 3 pounds. Right at 25. I'll be thrilled with 30. Thrilled. Ecstatic. And the Graeters ice cream I just ate will no doubt help me get there. It was black raspberry chip. And it was free. Come. On.
Walk her out. That's what we'll do this week. Walk the baby out. Especially now that I have permission.
The Best part? Head down. Ready to go.