After waaaaaaaaaaay too many bad interactions with my midwife, I decided to kick her to the curb (or the stirrups) and find someone new -- someone cooler, someone closer, and someone with a fucking sense of humor.
"And, do you hang out at any crack houses or meth labs in your free time?" she asked me.
Oh, we're going to get along famously.
Hathor-fetus has been quite the elusive one, head bumping me in my ribs and kicking me in my bladder, which led the new midwife to do a quick ultrasound to confirm that the girl is lying sideways. With much optimism, she's pretty sure that the baby will slide down in a few weeks to that lovely head down, feet kicking my ribs to hell position.
And if not, we'll worry about it then.
It's amazing how a lot, if not all, of my concerns have dissipated just from switching over to a new midwife, and talking to my doula.
Too bad it didn't suck away my hormonal mood swings.
Welcome to the pissy-bitter-don't fuck with me trimester! Need to tell someone off? Call me.
Now I get to worry about the good stuff. Like who's going to watch my kids when I go into labor. And what the baby is going to sleep in since we don't own a bassient or extra crib.
And what the hell we're going to name her.
At this point, Blog is sounding really damn good.
*I'm updating the Blog the Recession page with new participants and prizes, as well as my links sidebar with some cool links and contests -- including this one that asks a question that I asked readers on my blog awhile back: Are you THAT Family? (The prizes are two $250 visa gift cards. Definitely participate).
But you're all clicking through, so you should know this already, right?