Fausto-Baby has come along way from his humble beginnings as a larval little sea monkey. In 10 days he'll be old enough for a home birth, should he come early, and he's now dropped and in a head-down position that he's unlikely to squirm out of.
Speaking of squirming, remember the rib he kicked out a few weeks back? Well, last night we had a big, loud, and very local thunderstorm that had the little one kicking like I'd never felt before. With each clap of thunder the baby went into World Cup overtime simulation, pounding way up at the top of my rib cage, several inches higher than the first rib he went after. Sure enough, by this morning two ribs were out, the original, and a new victim. Thankfully, my friendly neighborhood chiropractor (literally walking distance) was free this morning and once again worked his magic, getting both back where they belong. Phew!
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