- Went to the doctor on Wednesday for an ultrasound. Apparently it's standard for them to do one at 35 weeks to double check on growth and see if the baby is head-down and whatnot. At my old doctor, they basically told me I was lucky to get an ultrasound at 20 weeks at all and I would never get another one unless there was evidence of a huge problem. They were of the opinion that there is no evidence that it is actually okay to be sending those rays in at the growing baby, so why do it more than absolutely necessary? Crazy how different doctors are.
- ANYWAY, the ultrasound revealed that while I was 35 weeks and 2 days at the time, the baby was measuring at 37 weeks and 4 days. Ha. HA HA HA! (crazy laugh, redux) Hilarious, right? I most certainly do not have gestational diabetes, and I am actually very healthy, so they think she is growing normally, just ... a lot. And quickly. Just a big ol' baby. Their best guess was she was already around seven pounds or more. Great. Bring it, Baby X. I expected nothing less of you, really.
- We got an okay look at our darling's little face, but she had her hand in front of her face for most of the ultrasound. When the tech started the 3D ultrasound and tried to get pictures of her face, she started waving her arms around all crazy-like and scrunching up her face. So ... she is officially uncooperative. Again, I'm not shocked in the least.
- After an exam, the news that the baby is already so big was actually kind of good news, as I am already dilated and effaced and the baby is "engaged." The nurse said "Oh, you're right! She is REALLY low!" THANKS, LADY. I KNOW. I KNOW. So, in the world of baby business, this could mean nothing -- I could walk around like this for weeks -- or it could mean things are happening. I'm not a fan of the idea of having a baby at less than 37 weeks, but if she is already seven pounds, at least that makes me feel a little more secure in her growth and development. You gotta take what you can get.
- I'm taking my superstitions to the extreme. I've decided the baby won't come until I allow myself to nest. No nesting, no early baby. BOOM. So, I have been trying my best to ignore all urges or outsource the work (My mom cleaned out my pantry today. Heh.). Oh, and also, my mom is staying with me and asked if I wanted help with a sewing project I never managed to get started for Baby X. I told her hell to the no, because last time she came to stay with me and help me with a sewing project, I went into labor. I'm not messing around here. NO BABY.
- Josephine's second birthday party is tomorrow. Which, of course, is another reason there is no way I am going into labor tonight. Can you imagine me telling Josephine in a few years, "Oh yeah, we had to cancel your second birthday party because I was having your little sister!" I'm sure that would do wonders for sibling rivalry.
- I decided we needed to nail down this baby name once and for all, since, you know, baby could be coming any damn time she pleases. We were both like 95% on the name I think, but we never really talked about it, and we don't call the baby that name (mostly because my brain is so addled that I would probably start referring to the baby by the name IN FRONT OF people, and that is the exact opposite thing we are going for. So we talked about it on the way home from the ultrasound, and Jeremy told me what he imagined he would call the baby for short ... and I had a complete breakdown. I told him I hated that nickname and everything was ruined and we couldn't name the baby that and NOW THERE IS NO NAME AND WHY DON'T WE JUST GIVE UP AND NAME HER X. It was a nice drive home.
- When we got home, we both got baby name books back out, made new lists, cross-referenced, discussed, yada yada yada, and decided we didn't like any name more than the one we picked out. I went to bed feeling great.
- This afternoon Jeremy sent me an e-mail that started out "I know we thought we decided on the baby's name, but I can't get _______ out of my head ..." (i.e., a TOTALLY DIFFERENT NAME). OKAY, AWESOME, LET'S DO THIS AGAIN!
- I could probably add in about 78 more bullets, but instead I will call it quits and leave you with this gem from Jeremy. Consider it your Funny Stuff My Husband Says fix.
Me: UGH! I HATE that nickname! I would rather die a fiery death than have someone call
my child that name!
Jeremy: I've said it before, and I'll say it again ...
Jeremy: You hate everything.
Me: I'm writing that down so I can tell everyone on the blog you said that.
Jeremy: Be my guest. If they're regular readers, they'll know it's true.
THE END. Until I do a birthday party recap. I'm sure you're all on pins and needles, so I'll throw that together ASAP.