Monday, September 5, 2011
Friday was my 38 week appointment.
The doctor said, "Hmm, this is going to be a BIG baby."
"Great," I said, obviously full of sarcasm. "How big is BIG?"
"Well, expectant mothers are usually as right as their doctors when it comes to predictions, so, how much do you think this baby will weigh?"
I knew my biggest baby was William, 9 lbs. All the others were 7-8 lbs.
SO, I said, "9 lbs. 3 oz?"
"Oh, no, no, I'd say AT LEAST 9 lbs. 9 oz."
Not the news I wanted to hear. That's big.
I left the doctor's office feeling even bigger than when I arrived.
It's all psychological, isn't it?
I was about to wallow in the depths of despair,
AND THEN, I had a thought that saved me.
A ray of hope.
If this baby is as big as he says (or bigger), that's THAT MUCH more weight to come off once he's born!
I can handle that.
In fact, a little tinge of excitement coursed through me . . .
just a tinge, mind you, because, somehow, this chubba-bubba has to pass through the birth canal, first!
I'm in the home stretch. I'm trying to keep my chin up. Trying to be tough.
I CAN do this.
I'm no whimp.
9 lbs. 9 oz. or more, this little chunk WILL NOT hang out in this womb forever:).
at 11:50 AM