“Oh, and by the way, you’re measuring a bit small today, so I’d like you to go in next week for an ultrasound to make sure everything is alright with your baby.” Without realizing just exactly how he has stressed me out, my doctor states this in a very calm tone.
Small? What do you mean SMALL? In four pregnancies I’ve NEVER measured small. And I’m not sure ANYONE in my family measures small – we always look like beached whales!
For the next 5 days, my brain goes into overtime. Ok, so there are two possibilities with me measuring small. First – the doctor only measures my uterus, so maybe my uterus is just small. Second, maybe the baby is small . . . but he’s been big at my other two ultrasounds, so that would mean there is probably something wrong, like maybe the placenta is having problems. And I’m officially 37 weeks, a this appointment is at the hospital, so I’d probably go in for an emergency c section. Do I tell Hubby this? Umm, no. He’s flying and there’s nothing anyone can do, so I’ll just stress on my own.
And oh BOY do I stress! I count down the hours until the appointment. I pack my bag in case I’m staying at the hospital. I make a list of what Hubby would need to back so the kids can go to my sister’s house. I make sure EVERYTHING is as ready as possible. And everyone except for Hubby know that there’s a chance I’m having this kid TODAY. But I don’t want to worry him, so I keep him in the dark still.
The drive goes fine. I find a place to park. And then I proceed to get lost in the hospital. What do you want from me – it’s like the third time I’ve ever been to this office! I finally find my way, only 15 minutes late. But that’s ok, because they’re so far behind I still have to wait 30 minutes for my turn.
The tech calls me back. “We’re checking baby size, right?" she asks. “Yes, I’m measuring small.” I respond.
She squirts my belly and starts up the machine. My first thought – WOW that baby looks big. But I’ve never had an ultrasound this late, so what do I know.
“That’s a good sized head there,” the tech comments. “And baby IS head down, which is always good to see.” She continues to take measurements – the femur, the abdomen.
“Well, this is NOT a small baby.” Oh? “Right now, he’s measuring 90th percentile, which works out to be 8 pounds 2 ounces.”
WHAT!! I still have three more weeks to go, and he’s measuring a pound and half bigger than any other of my children? She tells me that there’s a margin of error of half a pound either way, but STILL!
A few minutes later, I’m in an exam room with my doctor. he informs me that I have the biggest baby he’s seen that day. And then tells me, I’m still measuring only 34 weeks. I have NO clue where this baby is hiding!
So many things with this child have been unexpected. With my other three I gained right about exactly 30 pounds. So far, I’m only up 12 pounds with this one. If this baby really is 8 pounds, once you figure in all the fluid and placenta and everything, that means I’ve actually LOST weight.
I was crazy dizzy the first few months too. And much more nauseous than usual. I’m much more tired than with my others. And I just feel huge (although apparently, I’m not!)
My feet are insanely puffy. Especially my right foot – it HURTS by the end of the day it’s so swollen.
As of today, I have 16 more days until my surgery. . . which is only 3 days after my due date (won’t that be fun!). So for now, I have to take lots of breaks while I’m cleaning or playing. I have to drink lots of water, which in turn means even more trips to the bathroom. I need a nap every day or I just can’t function. These last couple of weeks will be a test of wills, but I WILL make it! And after this whole fiasco, at least I can say I really am ready now!