The Shift

There's this funny thing that happens with each passing week when the Perinatologists come in.

Each week causes a shift in discussion as our girl makes another important transition of development.

When we first got to the hospital we were 29 weeks, and all they could really tell me was that she was "very likely to be ok" if born that day.

After that, 30 and 31 were met with more reassurances, and the goal of making it to the all-importnt 32.

Last week, it was a celebration of "you made it to 32 weeks" -- a big milestone that meant our girl's odds of survival were as good as a full-termer, only with time in the NICU required.

Today is Sunday, and after the compulsory weigh-in that does nothing but make me do math in my head that no woman wants to do...I am at 33 weeks, and again there was a shift in talk.

Dr. L came in and said some magic words, "Start thinking about dates," he said. "for an elective c-section."

Then he corrected himself. It's not elective, per se, I have to have one, but I could conceivably pick the date after 35 or 36 weeks, depending on how she's measuring.

Of course, that's if they don't have to take her before then...which is what I fully expect.

But just the fact that I can look at this month's calendar and start wondering what a good date would be...well, that's seeing the light at the end of the tunnel!