Oh, sweet relief. After two days with temperatures in the mid-90s, we can finally open the windows and let some fresh air in the house. Poor Baby and I were languishing in our sauna of an apartment, trying desperately to stay cool with the help of a hand-me-down window AC and a begrudging refusal to use any heat-generating technology, like computers or televisions or ovens, through the extent of the heat wave. Today the high's down in the low-80s, and the air is heavy with impending rain. In another context that combo might feel oppressive, but for now it's pure pleasure.
And a break from the heat means I can finally turn on the ol' laptop and blog again, which is lucky because today we have plenty of good news to share.
First of all: hurray! Yesterday we found a pediatrician that we love. He's an old-timey pediatrician: a single-doctor practice whose office lacks a lot of the fancy bells and whistles of some of the more popular practices. (But, really, who chooses a pediatrician for their designer wallpaper anyway?) We really appreciated that he took a whole 40 minutes of his day to talk with us (without billing) about his office's routines and about our concerns and philosophies as parents. (The other pediatricians we've seen all just funneled us through their monthly open houses.) We love that he's flexible about different parenting styles (didn't give us any trouble about considering co-sleeping, for instance) and that he treated us like we're intelligent people who are capable of doing research and of forming reasonable opinions about what is best for our family and our baby. We left his office feeling great about the interview, and though we have one more office to visit (another open house) before we make our final decision, I think we know at this point whom we're going to select.
Speaking of positive experiences with doctors, news item number two: This morning we attending another set of three prenatal appointments, and all went swimmingly. We couldn't have come out happier. Our non-stress test was uneventful, once again. We had a consult with a Dr. S. to talk about the supposed high-risk nature of my pregnancy and to make sure that Bryan and I are still on the same page with our medical team with regard to how we're managing that risk. As some readers might recall, my contention has always been that my pregnancy is not high-risk, that this is all a lot of unnecessary hullabaloo over the fact that, basically, I was nervous at my first prenatal appointment (resulting in some not-so-normal blood pressure readings). But it's been really hard to convince my medical team of that fact, thanks probably to the hyper-conservative nature of the obstetrics world. Anyway, all of our concerns were addressed by Dr. S. today, even before we brought them up. He looked over my chart, talked to me a bit about my history, and basically called the direction of my care so far "ridiculous." While that may not sound like the sort of thing one wants to hear 34 weeks into one's pregnancy, in this case it was truly music to my ears. We discussed how to improve my care henceforward and how things might change in the unlikely event that a real problem does develop, and we reviewed all of my past test results to address any remaining concerns about my health and Baby's development. Once again, sweet relief.
Our last appointment was with one of our midwives, with whom we reviewed our written birth plan (happily, she deemed it "excellent") and investigated our baby's current position. More good news. Baby's no longer breech! As I implied in an earlier post, this change of position did not come as a huge surprise--lately, I've been feeling most of the kicks up near my ribs and the heartbeat has been low in my belly--but it was nonetheless a welcome confirmation of my suspicions.
34 weeks tomorrow. About 6 weeks to go. My goodness!
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