The other day we went in for our 20-week anatomy ultrasound…and I skipped ahead in school.
Let me explain:
Ever since our very first ultrasound at 6 weeks, the technicians have been all, “Huhhh…are you suuuuure about that date?” (Yes.) It seems that Indiana (his For Internet Purposes name) is something of an overachiever, and has been ahead of the curve, development-wise, since takeoff. But then at our last ultrasound, the technician didn’t just sort of casually remark upon his size…she flat-out told us that he was verging on record-breakingly enormous (but not dangerously so, no worries). Like, over a pound at a point in time when he’s supposed to be about 9 ounces (which is a big deal in Baby-Growth World).
This proclamation was followed by:
“Either of you big babies?” (No.)
“Big people in your families?” (No.)
“…No one?” (…No, no one.)
Which, you know: yay, what a big, strong, healthy boy, chest-pound, cigars for everyone…but…ummm…there are certain aspects of having a massive baby that make me just a tiny bit anxious. Not upset, not at all…just…
Anxious.
I mean: you know.
Eeek!
But as it turns out, they decided that since he’s been big from the start, all this means is that my due date is pushed up, so now he’s not record-breaking – just on the big side of the “normal” curve. Which, to me, is a kind of perplexing approach: “He seems kinda…big for his age…so let’s just…change that. Hooow ’bouts we all just go ahead and agree that he’s actually twenty-two weeks (wink, wink).”
In sum, though: all’s well – and I got to skip ahead a bit, which is cool. The sooner I get to meet Indy, the better.
Also: I saw his face (these 3-D ultrasounds are crazy), and…just…
He’s so cute. (Being totally objective here.)
