Sideways

The day started off well.  My short cervix just survived three days alone with a toddler who demands to be carried everywhere and my doctor had just given me the (official) green-light to go off bed rest a week early — but not, you know, go run a marathon or anything.  Which I would totally be doing if I weren’t pregnant, of course.  Minus the part that involves me running, or any form of running, or thinking about running.  *SHUDDER*  But otherwise…?  I would be so there.

Then the doctor performed an ultrasound to confirm Baby Freedom is still head down.

Uh-oh.  He’s gone sideways, people.

Yeah, turns out, my “generous” amount of amniotic fluid not only caused my cervix to shorten, but also facilitated Freedom’s recent gymnastics moves.  THANKS A BUNCH, Amniotic Fluid.  Now I may need a C-section if Freedom doesn’t wiggle back to his head-down position plus I’m holding very public conversations with my amniotic fluid.  When I’m not giving my cervix pep talks, that is.  Awesome.

“Babies go from transverse to head down all the time,” my doctor assured me.  “Let’s not worry yet.”

“Is there anything I can do to encourage him to move?”

“No.  Not really, unfortunately.”

My doctor is a highly respected obstetrician with years of experience with transverse babies, so I naturally took her word for it, relaxed and hoped for the best before next week’s perinatologist appointment.  No!  I kid!  I rushed home and obsessively googled “OMG HOW CAN I GET MY SIDEWAYS BABY TO MOVE?!?!  HAVE CATTLE PROD, WILLING TO USE.”

Among some of the more, um, curious suggestions:

–Crawl down a flight of stairs (Can’t see how anything could go wrong with THAT)

–Stand on my head in a pool of warm water

-Hold a piece of ice on the belly to get Baby Freedom to move away from it

-Lay an ironing board off the edge of the couch and lie down on it… with my head on the ground

“Ice?  Ha!” my Amniotic Fluid scoffed.  Hmpf.  Unsupportive, as usual.  While I’m in no rush to bust out the ironing board — which would require figuring out where we keep the ironing board — I am going to have Mr. Candy talk to my pubic bone to encourage Freedom to move toward the sound of his voice.

Heeerrre, baby, baby!

Seriously.  What is it about this pregnancy that requires so much serious discourse with my womanly parts?  *Sigh*  Maybe it’s time we got a hold of ourselves and cooled it with the girly bits talk.

Speaking of cooling it, any idea how long I’m supposed to keep this freakin’ ice cube on here?  Anybody…?  I would look it up, myself, but I’m too busy crawling down our three flights of stairs, one hand on the ice cube, the other on the steps…  (Hey, if Google says it works, it MUST be a good idea!)