The size of things

Some people say that size matters.


I'm one of 'em.



So.... I had my 38 week appointment yesterday. Typical appointment.... pee in a cup, step on the scale (up another pound, BTW), take the blood pressure, drop the pants, and dig up the cooch.


I'm not going to get into the whole cold-sweat thing I experienced when I actually LOOKED at the scale this week. True, I'm up a pound, which is good.... which makes my gain like 11 or 12 pounds... also good. what's not-so-good is realizing that if I've only gained 11 or 12 pounds for this pregnancy.... eeeeek!!!! how big WAS I before I got knocked up???? but again.... I'm not going to get into that. the past is out of my reach, and pictures proving my former bigness are well hidden, so forward march!!!!!


yes... what clicks my door opener this week is what the doc said after he inspected the inner sanctum of baby-land. After fiddling on my monster's head for a minute, he took off the gloves and started palming my stomach like he was Spreewell on a free throw line. After a few hmmmm's and huh's, gropes and squishes, he sat me up and said I needed an ultrasound.

Ever the glutton for punishment, I asked why.

He said he wanted the techs to do a fetal weight check. yeah...... annnnnnd?


well, he *could* be wrong, but he's thinking that the babe in said toyland is rapidly approaching, or possibly already AT the nine pound range.


excuse me, I'm sorry... I was distracted by the paper sticking to my bare ass..... did you just say NINE POUNDS?????????


obviously, being naked from the hips down removed my option of running screaming from the room... or at least waddling away as fast as a woman with 90 year old hips can manage.....

I impressed myself by not screaming, but I do believe my jaw dropped and a squeak came out.


He must have seen my eyes triple in size, cause he then began to say that it COULD be that I was having a contraction when he was feeling the monster, which would make him over-estimate the size of the intended vaginal projectile.

Through the dull ringing of the words 'nine pounds' being repeated in my head like the Brady Bunch episode where the kids remembered only too late that mom always said not to play ball in the house.... yes....through the the ringing I heard something to the effect of him being wrong with tall girls, but since I'm neither tall nor comfortable with a nine pound child, I really couldn't tell you what he said.


nine pounds. good gravy. and it's still got another 2 weeks to grow!!!!!


So I go on Tuesday to get this kid sized up. what all of this ultimately means, I have no idea. There was talk that if the kid is indeed that big, it may have a problem coming through the chute, so to speak. maybe they'll induce me and get it out sooner---- maybe I'll have to have it cut out of me.... I dunno.

So I'll continue to sweat it out until Tuesday. My next appointment is on Thursday, so I guess that will be decision time... especially if the kid is a heffer.

think small thoughts in the meantime, kiddies----- I don't even BOWL with a 9 pound ball, ok?

ok... enough on this. me and Baby Huey have to go lay down.