38 Weeks and Counting
So two weeks until our projected due date, and today we had our final ultrasound. This apparently seems to be a final check to make sure everything is still OK (it is) and give a rough estimate of the child's current weight.
LN2 is tracking somewhat on the small side, but right on track as compared to where he was at the last ultrasound. They estimated him currently at 6 lbs 5 oz, which (assuming the "normal" 1/2 pound per week gain) would mean he'll be 7 lbs 5 oz at birth. Almost exactly the same as the prediction for Colin.
What I find most amusing is that, just like his big brother, LN2 refused to give us a nice face shot. The ultrasound techs tried to get a nice photo for us, but no matter what they did he stubbornly kept his arm and fist in front of his face. So we got a somewhat distorted view of his left eye and a bit of his nose, but that's about it.
At this point I assume, based on past experience, that things could be "any day now." I've hit the point where I can tell people walking by (strangers and friends alike) are just waiting for me to pop. People's reactions to pregnancy are very amusing to me. Early on they're afraid to say anything in case you're just getting plump. Then there's the cute/amusing period when people just find out and everyone is asking if you're having a boy or girl (or don't know), what you want (a healthy baby please). As you get bigger women especially have a tendency to want to touch your belly, which I am surprised does not offend me since normally I'd think that was a weird breach of personal space. Then toward the end everyone expects you to have a name picked out, and I've had no end of strange looks when I tell people I have no idea what we're going to name the kid, and likely won't decide until I've met him.
But to me the strangest, and perhaps most annoying question you get is people asking if you're ready to have the child yet, or if you're ready to be done with being pregnant. As if somehow I'm in a pant-wetting hurry to evict my unborn child. People, let's get real. Right now I don't have to change diapers, don't have to worry about him spitting up (on me or anything else!), don't have to worry about him getting sick, and he doesn't wake me up in the middle of the night crying for food. I don't have to worry about doctor's appointments or medical bills (or the costly and heart-wrenching concept of daycare), I haven't had to deal with labor, and taking him with me involves me standing up... not packing a sling/stroller, diapers, wipes, extra outfit, toys, yadda-yadda-yadda.
Am I slightly uncomfortable? Yes, of course. But show me anyone who put on 22 pounds in under a year and I'll bet that they're a little tired, irritable, and feel ungainly. I just don't see minor personal discomfort as sufficient reason for me to want to rush anything. And even if I wanted to, it simply doesn't matter. He's going to show up when he wants to. Until then I'm happy to just wait it out... which is probably good since there's no rushing these little people!!!
So for now the wait continues.
Thirty-eight weeks and counting...
LN2 is tracking somewhat on the small side, but right on track as compared to where he was at the last ultrasound. They estimated him currently at 6 lbs 5 oz, which (assuming the "normal" 1/2 pound per week gain) would mean he'll be 7 lbs 5 oz at birth. Almost exactly the same as the prediction for Colin.
What I find most amusing is that, just like his big brother, LN2 refused to give us a nice face shot. The ultrasound techs tried to get a nice photo for us, but no matter what they did he stubbornly kept his arm and fist in front of his face. So we got a somewhat distorted view of his left eye and a bit of his nose, but that's about it.
At this point I assume, based on past experience, that things could be "any day now." I've hit the point where I can tell people walking by (strangers and friends alike) are just waiting for me to pop. People's reactions to pregnancy are very amusing to me. Early on they're afraid to say anything in case you're just getting plump. Then there's the cute/amusing period when people just find out and everyone is asking if you're having a boy or girl (or don't know), what you want (a healthy baby please). As you get bigger women especially have a tendency to want to touch your belly, which I am surprised does not offend me since normally I'd think that was a weird breach of personal space. Then toward the end everyone expects you to have a name picked out, and I've had no end of strange looks when I tell people I have no idea what we're going to name the kid, and likely won't decide until I've met him.
But to me the strangest, and perhaps most annoying question you get is people asking if you're ready to have the child yet, or if you're ready to be done with being pregnant. As if somehow I'm in a pant-wetting hurry to evict my unborn child. People, let's get real. Right now I don't have to change diapers, don't have to worry about him spitting up (on me or anything else!), don't have to worry about him getting sick, and he doesn't wake me up in the middle of the night crying for food. I don't have to worry about doctor's appointments or medical bills (or the costly and heart-wrenching concept of daycare), I haven't had to deal with labor, and taking him with me involves me standing up... not packing a sling/stroller, diapers, wipes, extra outfit, toys, yadda-yadda-yadda.
Am I slightly uncomfortable? Yes, of course. But show me anyone who put on 22 pounds in under a year and I'll bet that they're a little tired, irritable, and feel ungainly. I just don't see minor personal discomfort as sufficient reason for me to want to rush anything. And even if I wanted to, it simply doesn't matter. He's going to show up when he wants to. Until then I'm happy to just wait it out... which is probably good since there's no rushing these little people!!!
So for now the wait continues.
Thirty-eight weeks and counting...
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