Stockpiling sleep and battling with a hormonal headache. Resorted to co-codamol and a darkened room. Lay there whilst my brain short circuited making very odd links, as it does whenever I have a migraine. Pip wriggled away like I haven’t felt him wriggle in a long time. His feet are still under my right ribs, leading me to believe that despite the false starts, he still hasn’t engaged his head and that we might still be over 2 weeks from meeting him. I really hope he does come of his own accord. I understand that it doesn’t really matter whether I have a c-section, in the grand scheme of things, but I’d so much rather not have major abdominal surgery and be trying to grapple with breast feeding.