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Tag: pregnancy

“Bigger than average”


We had a biophysical profile ultrasound today. Fluids are good, blood flow is good and he is head down and in an anterior position. Yay.

The tech started the ultrasound by saying, “Oh wow, you don’t have much fluid in there.” and of course my stomach dropped out of my body. Then she poked around and, ya know, actually measured the fluid while I tried not to cry or panic. She then said there was a lot more fluid in there than she thought.

So thanks for the heart attack. Jerk.

Wesley was super stubborn and despite making my stomach jump and bounce all over the place in the waiting room he decided to take a snooze during the actual ultrasound. One of the things they have to look at is movement so she was poking him and shaking him and he would. not. move. I finally asked Joel to talk to him and sure enough, he kicked a few times. Baby boy loves his daddy’s voice.


One thing he would not do was move was his hand away from his face though. So we got a little glimpse of his nose and mouth but that’s it. Every single ultrasound his hands have been up by his head. It’s kind of adorable but I really hope he moves those little hands for the delivery because, no matter how tiny his hands are, I don’t want them to try to fit through me with his head. Ugh.

Also, they estimate he’s 8lbs 2oz. In the words of the doctor he’s “a little bigger than average.”

And yeah, I know the measurements are not generally all that accurate but I’m still kind of freaking my freak over here. Because the measurements can be wrong the other way too. As in, he might be bigger than 8lbs. And he is not coming out yet. And he’s just getting bigger every minute he stays in me.

Excuse me while I faint.

It’s probably a good thing for my sanity that I go to such a laid back OB/midwife practice. Seriously, one visit to a high risk office where they tell me “He’s going to come out all dried out and wrinkled” and, when I tell them I haven’t been contracting much and the ones I have aren’t really uncomfortable, they say “well that’s not going to do anything at all” and it spirals me into an emotional hole.

Yesterday I was all zen. Today I spent most of the day ugly crying and terrified of pushing out a giant baby with a nuchal hand. It was not pretty.


I had a bit of an epiphany earlier this evening and realized why all the advice for starting labor was getting to me so much. I know that the people who give it are trying to be nice and helpful. I’m definitely not mad at anyone for trying to help. It’s just, when people say “try x or y” it makes me feel like I’m not doing enough to get this baby out. Like, if I would have drank more tea or taken more supplements or walked further or had more sex or… or… or… he’d be here already. If I could just find the thing to do or do the thing enough I’d be holding my baby. Every moment I spend lying on the couch feels like I’m failing, even if the reason I’m lying down is because I feel like my pelvis is going to rip in half if I take one more step.

You would think that hearing that my baby is healthy and there are no issues would put me in a great mood. And yet somehow I left that appointment feeling completely terrified, defeated and like a failure. I’m really thankful for my friends on Facebook because they helped talk me down from my hysterics. I’m also thankful for my husband because he really does his best to stay calm and take my roller coaster of emotions in stride.

I know it’s not my fault he’s not here yet. Now if only I could get what I know and what I feel to match.

39 Weeks


This is my last weekly update before my due date.

Wait, what now?

Could be my last weekly update period if this kid decides to follow in his mom and dad’s footsteps and be born on a 17th. I’ve been discussing it with Wesley and telling him Sunday is his birthday so he better not miss it. St. Patrick’s Day would be a pretty freaking cool birthday. Plus, my favorite midwife is on call this weekend. Not that I mind who catches him that much, we’ve just seen her the most so it would be cool to have her at the birth.

It’s fine if he picks another birthday. I mean obviously.

I would prefer it be sooner rather than later. But also it would be nice if he waits until at least after this weekend because Joel has his dad-chelor party tomorrow. It’s also my nephew’s birthday Saturday and it would be really cool if my little guy could have his own day. Not to mention my nephew would probably be pretty bummed if everyone got pulled away from his party because I was in labor.

So basically I have a lot of opinions about when he comes. Which means he will likely come exactly when I don’t want him to.

Such is life.

We had another uneventful appointment yesterday where Joel captured this,


which has to be one of my favorite shots of all time. I will never get sick of hearing Wesley’s beautiful healthy heartbeat.

She didn’t check me for dilation again and I’m totally fine with that. If I’m not dilated at all I’ll just be bummed and if I am it could give me a false sense of when things might start happening. There is a tiny bit of me that is curious but not enough to request a check. She didn’t mention if I would get checked at my next appointment (which is on my due date, eek!).

Other than the good appointment, yesterday was a tough day. I woke up, took a shower and promptly puked my guts out. It was a nice little flashback into the first trimester. I remained horrendously nauseated all day, to the point where I couldn’t pull it together enough to go to dance. That was really upsetting, especially since my studio is now on break for the next two weeks. So I guess my pregnant dancing days are over. Sigh.

So now it’s just a waiting game. Joel is incredibly jumpy, which I find completely adorable. I find myself feeling like I need to cling to every second. Every lazy moment, every cuddle with Joel, every moment of sleep. We went to the movies. They asked if we wanted to sign up for a rewards card and we just kind of laughed because who knows when we might be back.

Every wiggle and kick feels extra precious because I know I don’t get to feel them much longer. Of course I can’t wait to nibble on the delicious little toes and knees that have been making my belly dance but I’ll miss feeling him go crazy after I have a Coke or milkshake. I will not miss the nausea or the food aversions or feeling like my pelvis is trying to split in half every time I move, but the kicks? Those I will miss, even the hard ones to the ribs.

After a storm…

there’s a rainbow:

I’m 17 weeks.


I know. I’ll get into the reasons why we waited so long to share in another post. They might be different than you’d expect (although if you’ve experienced a loss maybe not).

For now I’ll say that the baby seems healthy. I had a rough go of it as far as “morning” (ha! I wish) sickness goes but I’m slowly moving past that and thanking God every day for the invention of Zofran. Other than that, things have been going well.

I would post a bump picture but so far there’s really none to speak of unless you’re looking at me naked and I have a strict no naked pictures policy on this blog. I can tell my waistline has changed though and I find myself wanting to shout “I haven’t just eaten too many cheeseburgers, I’m pregnant!” to everyone I meet.

But I digress.

I’m falling more and more in love with this baby especially since I’ve felt the very first flutters not long ago. This is real. This is happening.

My lucky charm is coming March 2013.

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