Placenta and Pasta

Here we go. Prepare yourself for an onslaught of random baby info. I'm 29 weeks today and I had an ultrasound. Follow up with the perinatologist to check and make sure that my placenta had stopped misbehaving and had moved up enough to no longer be classified as “marginal previa.”

Was I nervous? No, not really. I was more excited to see our baby on the screen. I knew today could be our last ultrasound until we meet him. Eek.

First good thing of the day? I signed in for my appointment 15 minutes early and noticed the girl signing in front of me had signed in 15 minutes late for hers. I grumbled a bit and wondered how people function who are perpetually late (oh yeah, you mean my mother?). But then, wonders of wonders, they called me back before her. Karma. (In case you’re curious, when we walked out, she was still waiting).

So we went into the room and the nurse informed me it would be a vaginal exam today. Damn. I thought I was done with those. Oh well. So I stripped down and covered myself with the stupid piece of paper that really doesn’t cover anything at all and got in the position. BOOM. Insta-nervous. How does that work? I instantly started contemplating whether I needed to use the bathroom and thinking about things like heartbeats.

Then the doctor came in and lubed up the happy “little” vaginal wand and then BAM we were looking at my cervix. 3.6cm. Now remember how this is the doctor that told us at the NT scan, ”You are not going to have a miscarriage.” Well today, after measuring my cervix, he looked at me and said, ”You will carry this baby to term. Wow, this guy doesn’t mess around. He doesn’t worry about making grand statements. ‘Course, he is also the guy who told us we’re having a girl…but still.

Anyhow. So that was good news. Cervix is great. And….placenta?? Up and out of the way! All cleared for vaginal delivery. Wow. Even though I wasn’t really nervous, I definitely felt the relief. And excitement. We’re one step closer to having the birth we want to have.

Then we switched to the abdominal ultrasound. I made him check that we’re still having a boy. I was rewarded with a shot of two giant testicles. Wow. Doctor also checked his position. He is head down! I was convinced he was transverse, based on the way I feel movement. But no, head is in position. He is right occipital posterior. So yeah, technically he is sunny side up right now, but doctor said that’s totally normal for this far along. Ok. He also showed me on the outside of my stomach where all of baby’s parts are. So cool. So that long hard curve I’ve been stroking really is his back. Neat! Oh, and he weighs 3 lbs 3 oz! That is a BABY. A little one, but a baby.

Let me pause for a minute and stop spewing random baby data at you to say this was my favorite ultrasound we’ve had. It was relaxed, slow-paced, and full of good news. I was able to actually appreciate the experience and bond a bit with B during the scan instead of forgetting to breathe and staring at the screen like a robot. Oh, and we got to watch him yawn. Which is ridiculously cute because it looks so much like a real baby just lazily yawning and chilling.

The only minutely worrisome news had to do with his size. He’s measuring a week ahead at exactly 30 weeks. The amniotic fluid is looking “great,” but then he said, “but you should watch your sweets and carbs intake.” Shit. I mumbled abashedly, “Well, I can tell you it’s not the sweets. It’s definitely the carbs.” In other words, it's definitely the PASTA.

Now, B keeps telling me I’m overreacting and that the doctor was not concerned at all. And he’s right. The doctor wasn’t. Even though I asked many times if I should be worried that he’s measuring ahead, the doctor kept saying that “everything was fine” and the baby looked amazing. But, the deal is that all signs keep pointing to the fact that I am not being strict enough with my diet. I mean, I’ve gained 24 lbs already, the midwives never like my diet choices, and now the scan is showing a big baby and fluid levels that make my doctor use the C-word. Damn.

Baby is currently at the 67th percentile for weight and size, which is just about perfect. But his projected weight on the due date? 8 lbs 11 oz. That is bigger than I would prefer to push out of my vagina. I’d be much happier with 6 or 7 lbs. Ha.

And so, in sum, the appointment was wonderful. He kept repeating over and over how happy he was with our pregnancy and how we were so “ready” for our vaginal delivery at the birth center and how now all we have to do is “sit and wait.” Can I just say, HOORAY?!? Life is good today.

Oh, and he totally has my husband's "prominent" nose. Oh well. Better on a boy than a girl, hey? And best part? Our baby looks like my hubby :)