5.19.2009

Fort Knox. That is me.

We had our "how big this baby gonna be?" ultrasound yesterday. It was both an amazing and bizarre exam- she is now so big that you can't get one shot of the whole her- it's all feets and Aliens-type spine and, get this, OPEN eyes, looking at you, blinking. I vacillated between wonder and feeling just a smidge creeped out. I mean, there is a creature with its EYES OPEN in my belly, looking at my innards, even now. Holy crap. But then she rubbed her little face with her hands and pursed her lips at us like she was blowing kisses. And my husband and I became even more twitter-pated with our soon-to-be Gwendy-girl (BTW, she's still emphatically female, thank God. I already washed all her pinky clothes so I can't return them!).

She is, to the shock of exactly no one, a loooong baby, with long limbs and feets and arms. She is weighing in at an estimated 7lbs, 2oz, which is at about the 65th percentile for size. So she's a bit big, but not so much that we need artificial intervention. This is kind of a relief, for as much as I gripe about my various aches and pains, I really would like to let nature do its thing and have her come when she's good and ready. I would not, however, like to follow in my mom's foot steps and go two weeks late and have a child who is 10lbs, 7oz (Hi, Joey!). No siree bob. So if that bridge needs crossing, I'll cross it, later on.

And then, the not fun part. First, more protein in my pee-pee. That's five weeks now. So now I get to have the dignified and amazing privilege "collecting" my urine for 24 hours in this :

Like, seriously, could we have chosen an uglier color? Maybe a brownish-yellow? Cool. I have to tote this thing to the bathroom at work all day today, so's we can check the protein of a whole day's sample. And they recommend I refrigerate it. Where, next to my coworkers' Yoplait Lite and string-cheese? When I turn it in for analysis, I also get blood work, so we can truly rule out preeclampsia. If they don't rule it out, I get induced next week, for sure. But no one really thinks I have preeclampsia, it's more of a cautionary/let's-shame-Nicole-for-fun thing I think. My blood pressure is splendid and I haven't been gaining crazy weight/retaining water.

Also, I am closed. And not effaced, at all. Head is not even a little "engaged" (does anyone else picture Jean Luc Picard telling the baby to "Engage!" there? I do). So pretty much, Gwen is busy picking out new wallpaper and curtains for my uterus and has no plans on moving out any time soon. Rats. I was secretly harboring visions of my doc going "Heavens! You are already 9 1/2 cms dilated! Let's just go across the street to maternity and deliver you now, kay?" Nothing doing.

S'ok, though. As I said, nature, blah blah, she'll come when she's ready, blah blah blah. Except, maybe the slightest, most selfish, back-sore, bloated part of me is hoping that my giant orange jug o' pee has a soupcon more protein than recommended so they induce me this weekend....NOOO. Forget I said that. I didn't mean it. Really.

Seriously, Healthy Gwendy, Healthy Mom= #1 priority. You just stay in there as long as you like, my duckling. Momma can tough it out.

3 comments:

Optimus Primate said...

You made me look up soupcon, and I ♥ you for that. Not a word one runs across every day in Alabama. :)

The Fitzlosopher: said...

Yay! I love learning new words. There was one the other day...'gallimaufry'. Yum.

Optimus Primate said...

Now you're just showing off.