By my calculations, including this post, I could have only four more Friday Morning Coffees before the baby is born. Every week is flying by so fast that I can barely keep up. I just had the realization the other day that my belly shots will soon be ending.
I love taking my belly shots. (when there is a baby in my belly, otherwise? Not so much fun.)
Nearly two weeks ago, I was at my 34 week check-up when the doctor measured the size of my uterus. (that is what she’s measuring, right?) Anyway, she held the measuring tape and her face looked incredibly perplexed. I asked her point blank “HOW BIG?”
“Well, you should be measuring 34 and you are measuring THIRTY-EIGHT.”
Oh dear. (or Oh shit, I can’t remember which one. Either way, there was lots of sweat involved not just in hearing this latest burst of growth but also lots of sweat because getting up from that position is like a circus act.)
I’m just letting you know that there is a slight chance that this baby will be born slightly sooner than March 29th. I base this only on the fact that Noah, who NOW is all cute and normal sized, was ten pounds…AT 38 WEEKS.
Which is why they took him early.
So, it’s possible that Maxwell Hammer or Supervisor or Tiny Big Friend of Ours (all of our names for him) could make his appearance slightly sooner than 39 weeks and 3 days. (You know how little brothers like to be like their big brothers.)
I will know more after a very exciting ultrasound and OB appointment late Monday afternoon.
IN OTHER PREGNANCY NEWS:
My drool problem is serious. I’m pretty sure there should be a study on me. The fact that I’m not severely dehydrated after waking up in the morning makes me a MEDICAL MARVEL. The drool, spreads like a river with tributaries and BARGES. Yes, BARGES. I have stopped using my hand to clean up the disgusting mess and have just moved to using my sheets and blankets and last night I pictured myself sleeping with kleenex taped to my face and BEING HAPPY ABOUT IT.
Or maybe a SHAMWOW! Yes. I must go to Walgreens and buy a SHAMWOW!
It’s bad. It’s not cute and I can not wait for the drooling to end.
So, I’ll leave you now, with the vision of drool in my ears and hair while I head to the chiropractor, go to my final hair color appointment before baby is born and schedule a bikini wax before it’s too late.
Do not even get me started on that. Just say a prayer. Not for me, for the poor soul who will be sore after my visit.