“Our days as a family of 3 are rapidly approaching their end! I can’t say I’m a fan of pregnancy, so I will welcome that end and look forward to the joys and challenges of loving and parenting this little guy. Praying like ever he will not see the NICU like his sister. I’m feeling optimistic…“
It was the week of threes. At 33 weeks pregnant, I was 3 full weeks from birth week, had 3 more Makena injections to endure and had 3 final trips to make to the doctor. Our time as a family of 3 was drawing to its close.
We started really pushing the bucket-list items we wanted our two-year-old to experience before we’d presumably bunker down a bit for the fall and winter. We took her up north to go canoeing, we had campfires, we took her to the toy exhibit at our public museum, an aquatic center, the local children’s museum, the community fair, a wild animal park… it was go, go, go.
It felt like we were really crushing the whole soak-up-these-final-moments-as-a-family-of-3 thing. And I had everything I needed in the nursery except the baby.
Really our only major downfall was still having not decided on a name. In the grand scheme of things, it felt like we were sitting so well. We’d overcome so much and appeared to just be cruising toward the peachy keen birth experience we’d dreamed of – though I can’t really say a repeat cesarean was ever truly a part of my dreams. But could this really be possible?
In the stats:
Gestational Age: 33 weeks
Doctor’s Appointments: 10
Makena Injections: 16