Tummywatch Tuesday: 39 Weeks
Hi, there. I’m still pregnant!
At my appointment this morning, my doctor said he didn’t expect things would’ve changed much, I think because I’ve not had any more Braxton-Hicks contractisodes. But after a quick exam, it appears my cervix has been pretty busy over the last week. Go, cervix! It’s dilated another entire centimeter, so I’m at an “almost 2.” It’s also thinned—about 40 percent effaced. Dr. C says that together, these things mean I’ve got a head start. Translation: Shorter labor. A nice phrase to hear about now.
If I make it to my appointment in one week, he said, we’ll talk about how long he’ll let me go before inducing. I told him I didn’t think I’d make it to the next appointment. He agreed. Clint’s convinced I’ll deliver on Roy’s second birthday, which is Thursday, so Doc and I penciled in a date at the hospital at around noon that day. I actually feel she might be a little later. More like this weekend. We shall see.
I’m feeling pretty good. Moving slow, but feeling good. Drinking lots of liquids. Taking it easy. Chipping away at deadlines and other tasks I hope to complete pre-baby.
People keep asking me if Roy’s excited. I think he is? Every once in a while, he’ll demand, “See Junie,” and so I’ll face him while he takes a long look at my stomach, as if imagining her in there. Last night, as I was making dinner, he ran up and shouted at my belly button, “Junie, come eat pasta tonight!” I told him we should give her a few more days before demanding she join us for dinner. “Maybe next week. OK, Boo?” “Oh, OK,” he said, satisfied, before running off to play with his beloved trucks.
Now, finally, she’s watermelon sized, according to Parents.com’s week-by-week babytracker. A mini watermelon, but a watermelon nonetheless. When I look down at her, she doesn’t seem that big, but when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I’m like: Whoa. Yes. Definitely watermelon. Dr. C says he’d guess her at about 6 lbs 10 oz.
You guys, I just cannot wait to meet her. Cannot wait to see who she resembles and if she has hair; to marvel over those teensy fingers and toes; to hold her on my chest and tell her how excited we are that she’s part of our family. I can’t wait to soak in her personality, to get a sense who she is and therefore how the next few month—then years—might unfold. It blows me away that I will likely be doing those very things within the span of a week.
Maybe see you at 40 weeks. Then again, maybe not.
Mini watermelon image: iStockphoto