We had our final MFM visit last week. The plan was to assess baby’s size (large), BPP score (perfect) and my anxiety (moderate) in order to make a plan for when this little guy will join us.

I have really appreciated this MFM, because I think he met me where I am with this second rainbow pregnancy. He’s calm, pragmatic, takes lots of times to answer my questions, but he’s also honest. The truth of the matter is, I’m not high-risk. The extra NSTs, the BPPs, the visits with an MFM at all – it’s peace of mind. I am eternally grateful they are willing to give that, because goodness knows I need it, but because we have every reason to believe that losing Layla was an unexplained fluke, there is really nothing they are watching for (beyond a green light to bring baby into the world).

So when I asked him about what timing HE would like to see for this baby’s arrival, he really left it up to me. He prefers babies arrive at 39 weeks and he’d support me going to term (not an option in my mind). He also said that given my baby’s large size (which is expected, I grow big babies), that I could walk into L&D at any moment and if I reported decreased fetal movement, even if I passed an NST with flying colors, they’d give me the option to have the baby on the spot. That given my history, I make the rules from here on out, which is just incredible.

Because I’m technically low-risk, it also means he’s fully in support of my plans for an out of hospital birth. I did have a real heart-to-heart with my midwife last week about risk assessment, transfer plans, etc. I appreciate that she emphasized that she’s not the midwife for everyone because she IS so preventative/hands-on/etc. She doesn’t tolerate bleeding or decels or really anything that could turn emergent quickly, and she says we’re 10 mins from call to arriving at the hospital.

I’ve wavered throughout this pregnancy as to whether or not I could do it – could I have the birth center birth I dreamed of with Layla (because I sure couldn’t with Diego – more monitors please!). The closer I get, the more I think – I can. I can do this. My baby boy kicks me constantly to remind me just how strong he is, how close I am to meeting him, how capable I am in facing my fear and reclaiming this piece of me that has been floating in space for the last 4 years.

And then, a moment of anxiety, a question about movement, and I doubt every bit of everything I just wrote. We’re taking it one day at a time, but those days are limited now.

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