Maxmax/Minimax, or if ONE of you mentions big babies again...
Yesterday I had Eric join me for what will probably be our last trip to a specialist for this pregnancy to determine, yet again, the estimated fetal weight. I'd seen my regular doctor the day before. She said that she thought the baby would be average, but was still measuring big by their crude tape measurements. The doctor I saw the week before had already referred me again to the specialist. I asked her how seriously I should be considering a scheduled cesarean, she said she'd know more after my estimated fetal weight visit.
One of the sonogram machines was down, but eventually we made it in. I really like my specialist too, not only because he's so direct, but because he has a reputation for being right and he always gives me good news, in quick somewhat broken sentences.
Baby is good. Good baby! Baby weighs 7 pounds. 65%. Good. See baby making sucking face? Baby is head down. Baby has lots of hair. See baby hair! Baby could come out today and be healthy baby. Goodbye!
So if she gains half a pound each week and I go four more weeks until delivery, which would be late, then I'll have a 9 pound baby. Or if I go sooner it will be smaller. Or the estimate is off, which is always possible. 65% means that for this stage, 65% of babies are smaller than that. Or she's 15% above the mean. But really, that's not much. Like my doctor said, I'm not having a small baby. (BUT NOT HUGE! NOT A HUGE BABY!)
We got our last prenatal pictures of her and were on our way to Babies R Us to pick up the car seat. And now I think we're as set as we're going to be. I still need to buy popsicles (the food of champions for laboring moms everywhere!) and finish packing my bag I suppose, but we're set otherwise. Except for all the things we're forgetting.
In other news I'm already 1cm dilated. Which is more about my cervix than you ever needed to know.
One of the sonogram machines was down, but eventually we made it in. I really like my specialist too, not only because he's so direct, but because he has a reputation for being right and he always gives me good news, in quick somewhat broken sentences.
Baby is good. Good baby! Baby weighs 7 pounds. 65%. Good. See baby making sucking face? Baby is head down. Baby has lots of hair. See baby hair! Baby could come out today and be healthy baby. Goodbye!
So if she gains half a pound each week and I go four more weeks until delivery, which would be late, then I'll have a 9 pound baby. Or if I go sooner it will be smaller. Or the estimate is off, which is always possible. 65% means that for this stage, 65% of babies are smaller than that. Or she's 15% above the mean. But really, that's not much. Like my doctor said, I'm not having a small baby. (BUT NOT HUGE! NOT A HUGE BABY!)
We got our last prenatal pictures of her and were on our way to Babies R Us to pick up the car seat. And now I think we're as set as we're going to be. I still need to buy popsicles (the food of champions for laboring moms everywhere!) and finish packing my bag I suppose, but we're set otherwise. Except for all the things we're forgetting.
In other news I'm already 1cm dilated. Which is more about my cervix than you ever needed to know.
posted by Laura at 12:07 PM
7 Comments:
Beginning to dilate, so that's good! I didn't get the 1 cm measurement. I got the 60% effaced stat. I did 15% more each week until I was a week late and Eric was still growing. It was time for his debut. 10 cm. and still no labor. I figured someone needed to jump start the process as the body and baby were just waiting around for what I don't know.
None of this makes sense. Blessings, blessings, blessings!
You made it all the way to 10 cm without active labor? Did I read that right?
Did they show you how the nurses used to stick their hands up the vagina to measure how dilated you were? They probably don't do that now, but they start out with one finger, adding a finger as they poke. When you can stick your hand, including your thumb through the cervix, that's call the big 10. Now, whether it was the big 10 or 9, I don't know. I got to the hospital at 6:30 am, the nurse stuck her entire hand up my twat at a little before 7, and Eric was outa there by 8 am.
So no. Not 10 without active labor. But at 5:30 am I was still walking around the house thinking I might have gas pains.
Weird.
Enjoy reading what is going on.
Seven pounds sounds good for now!!
Lots of love . . .
Hey Sharon, uh, yeah, they still do that.
What the hell do our bodies DO?!?!?! Nurses do WHAT?!?! You start dilating now?!? These comments have blown my damn mind.
I am mystified.
Glad the little one won't be a giant one. Let us know you need popsicle reenforcements. We will hijack ice cream trucks if need be. Or maybe we just want an excuse to hijack an ice cream truck.
I would like to congratulate Carrie on venturing into a blog about child birth. Because having a child is probably one of the most incredible and unique experiences that a woman can have, it can scare the pea-waddin' out of women who haven't had the experience.
Therefore, Carrie, I salute you.
Now, Laura, you are the main attraction, and you are so precious. My prediction is that you will have a relatively easy time of the birth. But the Universe is in charge so what do I know?
I am so stoked!! It's REALLY hard to concentrate at work. With every email I warn people that I'm outa there for four days when the baby come. I will get a hotel room (as I've saved the money) and be as out of the way as I can.
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