Oh, Smokey. Still 5-7 weeks until we meet you and I already know you are on track to be just.like.big.brother! Hiding from the ultrasound tech, kicking the crap out of me on an hourly basis, using my bladder like a trampoline, and most of all...the cheeks. I've seen those cheeks, that nose, and those pouty lips before. Almost exactly three years ago.
Today's ultrasound wasn't full of the kind of news I wanted to hear. Nothing *bad* really, but not the "everything is perfect, your baby is completely average, we don't need to watch you like a hawk" kind of news I was hoping for. What I heard was things like head circumference: 96th percentile, abdominal circumference: 89th percentile, estimated fetal weight: close to 6lbs at 32 weeks. I've been rejecting that whole "second babies are bigger than first babies" theory for months, but apparently Smokey has other ideas.
And once again I am reminded that none of this is in my control. I can eat right and watch my sugars and still have a ginormous baby. So, bring on the monitoring. Whatever it takes. Even if what it takes means a csection. But just for the record: I don't have to be happy about it.
And once again I am reminded that none of this is in my control. I can eat right and watch my sugars and still have a ginormous baby. So, bring on the monitoring. Whatever it takes. Even if what it takes means a csection. But just for the record: I don't have to be happy about it.
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