I have an 8 and a half pound baby in my belly. At least that's what the estimate is based on my ultrasound today. This is apparently in the 76th percentile for gestational age. I warned Jamie while we were sitting in the waiting room that if they predicted a 9 lb baby, I would cry. And while 8.5 lbs is less than 9, it still freaks me out. But perhaps that's a generous estimate. We can hope. However, considering how much my pelvic bones have been hurting this week any time I walk, stand, or even roll over in bed, I have surmised that the bones are no longer actually connected to each other and will be able to accommodate. I guess we'll just have to see! Of slight concern, my amniotic fluid appears to be low. Adequate, but low. I'm trying not to worry about that. I had a non-stress test also, which involved sitting in a recliner with sensors strapped to my belly for 20 minutes. The baby's heart rate fluctuated like it was supposed to which was good, but I had no real contractions to speak of. Bummer. However, my doctor was VERY pleased with my progress when she did my exam (which was less than pleasant, I might add). I am 80% effaced and 2 cm dilated at this point. She essentially said, "I doubt you'll make it to Sunday." Yay! I'm still scheduled to be induced at 7 AM on Sunday though, just in case. We'll be meeting our baby so soon! It's exciting! Our family of two is about to become three! Jamie is about to explode with anticipation. In the car on the way home he said, "I feel like we're about to get this awesome new toy to play with!" While a funny way to say it, I know exactly what he means. He is just adorable sometimes. In the manliest of ways, of course.
Also of note, there was an old man sitting across from us in the waiting room at the OB/GYN. I'm not sure who he was with or what they were there for. Hopefully it was nothing serious because I'm about to make fun of him. We were all peacefully keeping to ourselves, as strangers do, reading magazines, talking amongst ourselves. When I suddenly hear "Clip, clip." I look up, thinking to myself, "No WAY." Oh, but WAY people. WAY. It was really happening. Mysterious old man was CLIPPING HIS FINGERNAILS right there in the waiting room. And even MORE troubling than the fact that he was performing this typically personal and private form of hygiene in a VERY public place, there was nary a garbage can in sight! Where was he disposing of his old man nail clippings?! Gag me with a spoon! I looked over at Jamie and said "Is he for real?" And then I said what has become an all too common phrase around our house. "This is TOTALLY going in my blog."
Finally, I will take this opportunity to share with you a brief Public Safety Announcement. If you have a large exercise ball, always maintain at least one foot on the floor or one hand on something to hold it steady while sitting or laying on it. Prior to last night, Jamie thought this exercise ball was great fun and a direct challenge to his balancing skills. While attempting to achieve the perfect balance of his 6'1" frame on said ball, Jamie managed to nearly take out the large and expensive TV, his head, and our new baby swing. Plus, he gave himself a third degree rug burn. I'm innocently emailing on the couch as we watch "Swing Vote" via NetFlix (which while funny, would have been much more enjoyable had it not featured cameos by every liberal, leftist media personality in existence) when suddenly I see the large pink ball go flying toward the TV, Jamie soaring head-first toward one of the end tables, and the poor baby swing flinging dangerously from side to side. I'm laughing so hard just remembering it, I can hardly write. So, beware. Odds are, you are not as good at balancing as you think you are. Use your exercise ball with care.
