Thursday, May 27, 2010

Apparently, I'm a Fast Baker.

Getting to see your baby is a happy moment.
Naturally, we were excited for the ultrasound we had this morning.

After going into the room, the technician told us, "You'll be really surprised at how much has changed since 20 weeks."
I smiled at this.
Mr. C. smiled even bigger.

Then we saw a little hand grabbing a little foot.
Then we saw a spine.
We saw hair sticking all around a little head.

Only... his head wasn't that little.
Nor was the little hand grabbing the little foot.
In fact, the little foot and the little hand barely stayed on screen together.
His head was down, but he wouldn't face us.
His legs were in an uncomfortable-looking wad.

After a few more looks, the technician started measuring.
Then she said, "Your baby is six pounds."

I am thirty-two weeks pregnant.
At this phase, Max should be between two and half and three pounds.

I sat a little straighter.
"What?!"
"Your baby is between 5 pounds 10 ounces and 6 pounds."
"Isn't that double the size he's supposed to be?"
"Yes."

I looked and Andrew.
He looked at me.

The technician said, "He's measuring at 36 weeks."
Meaning that all of him is measuring at 36 weeks, not just his chub.
Well, except his legs- they're normal for a 32 weeker.

We went to see the doctor.
After the shortest appointment known to man, he sent us to the hospital.


They did all kinds of monitoring and lab work.
Max fought the monitors tooth and nail, trying to kick them off.
Then he fell asleep and the doctor tapped my stomach with a noise maker.
Max must have thought the noise was a gun shot, because you could see him run away from across the room.


After hours, the tests concluded and the results came back.
Though I haven't been tested for gestational diabetes yet (I will be later this week), nothing is wrong with me, aside from a little extra fluid.
Nothing's wrong with Max, either.
He's just a big baby.
So big, in fact, that he's bigger than 97% of babies his age.

It was a stressful morning, but Mr. C. kept me laughing the whole time.


Now that we're finally home, I'm really bummed.
Why?
They put me on bed rest for the rest of my pregnancy.
Theoretically, that means I could be in bed for eight weeks.
The doctor also told us that my chances for a C-section just went a lot higher than before.
I don't even want to think of that.

BUT I'm also very happy.
Why?
Because my big, healthy baby is measuring a month ahead of schedule and the ultrasound technician said he should be out at least 2 1/2 weeks early.
Which means we get to meet our little man very soon.