The show must go on….

Pardon the terrible pun please. It turns out that I am my father’s daughter and I can’t resist the things.

Here is me in hospital. I am at home again now, and not just because I would find it technically challenging to post using my phone.

I noticed yesterday when I was going to the bathroom that I appeared to be losing a bit of my plug. I woke up this morning and went to the bathroom to discover what I would describe as a heavy show.

I took a photo of it.

The good news is I decided NOT to share that picture.

Anyhew I had a show. Now if this had happened and the baby was head down I wouldn’t have thought much of it. I probably would have ordered an Indian curry for dinner, spent the evening bouncing on a ball, had a bath with some clary sage oil and demanded that my poor husband “perform”, but with this baby being breech I just wasn’t sure what to do. I rang the Fetal Assessment Unit, explained the situation and they asked me to come in to be examined. They told me not to eat or drink anything and to bring a bag with me.

I’ll admit at that point (despite the total lack of contractions) I got sort of excited. What if I arrived and they told me I was 3cm? What if it meant that the baby was going to come today? Or tomorrow?

The verdict was – breech baby with an unengaged butt. Cervix is mid to posterior, thick, soft but only 1-2cm, which they reckon is only because I’ve had children before, oh and I still need to wait until Monday for them to try ECV. Turns out that having a show means, well, sod all frankly.

What an anti-climax.

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