I had the latest in the series of prenatal appointments today, and the last one with my very favorite of the midwives in my practice.

Everyone is still delighted with my blood pressure and weight gain, and my feet and ankles aren’t appreciably swollen. (Maybe at the end of a weekend day spent running around with/after Noah.) I hereby predict that my total weight gain for this pregnancy will be 27-29 lbs, contrasted with the ~50 I gained with Noah.

Esmerelda Freugenspeigel’s heartbeat is good, she is definitely head down, and is (unsurprisingly) measuring on the larger side of the normal range.

Translation for my fellow data geeks: Today I am 33w2d pregnant, with a fundal height measurement of just over 34cm.

Further translation for other people: fundal height is the distance from pubic bone to the top of the uterus. In one of those beautiful symmetries found in nature, after an average sized woman is 20 weeks pregnant with a single baby, her average fundal height in centimeters is equal to the number of weeks she is pregnant. The normal range is +/- 2cm. So Esmerelda and I are medium high on the bell curve. Noah was closer to the middle of the bell curve.

Then we had a great conversation about my getting the layoff news, and how my health/recovery, Esmerelda’s health, my termination date, my health insurance, short term disability insurance, insurance coverage for the baby, COBRA, hospital policies related to scheduled c-sections, etc all effect each other and our health care decisionmaking.

I don’t think I *can* explain how all the variables interact, but my conclusion at the end of that conversation plus a similarly complex discussion with the (wonderful) employee benefits person at work have led us towards bumping the scheduled c-section forward to the Friday before Labor Day, rather than the Tuesday after.

I can honestly say, this was the best single medical appointment I’ve ever had. I felt so supported, acknowledged, and cared for as a whole person that I didn’t want to leave.