The baby arrived in the middle of a snowstorm. Schools were closed and events were cancelled. I wouldn't have known. My mother and I had spent the last two nights in the hospital while tests were being run for pre-eclampsia. The diagnosis was that it was a mild case.
By that time, I felt awful. My ankles, knees, and wrists were so swollen I could hardly move them.
The doctor came to discuss induction with me, and I said I wanted a c-section. His eyes bugged a little after all of our discussions about avoiding medication. However, the last fundal measurement had been 49 cm. I didn't think I could go through labor after being unable to keep down food for months and having limbs that wouldn't allow me to move in the positions that help labor progress. All of my plans for a natural childbirth were out the window.
The doctor said his biggest concern was being able to deliver the head and not the shoulders. I didn't tell him my childhood memory of the "two-headed cow" at my uncle's farm. The cow and calf had died for exactly that reason. I found this concurrence further motivation.
The next day, I had a c-section. When the baby, 10 pounds 10 oz, emerged, the doctor said "You made the right decision." Her head was 15 inches.
I am absolutely in love with her. She's a nice, solid baby. Very good for hugging. We spend lots of time snuggling and nursing these days and it is absolute bliss.