Yesterday's appointment went just fine, save the fact that we waited for over two hours to be seen. The doctor placed the ultrasound wand onto my stomach and almost immediately pulled it off and asked, 'Do you know the sex?' Apparently, our boy is very proud of his anatomy, and surprised even the doctor with his immodesty. The kitten is doing well, he's head down and all looks good. He currently weighs 4lbs, 9oz, and that puts him in the 86th percentile -- he's still bigger than 86% of babies his age. Sonograms to come... I didn't grab a picture of them last night. On a few of the pictures, his foot is up by his head. I could just eat him up already, and I haven't even met him yet.
We sat in the main waiting room with a family waiting for their own baby to be born: Grandparents, siblings, aunts and uncles all excited and anxious. After half an hour or so, the dad came downstairs to announce the birth of their baby boy, and everyone shouted and jumped for joy... I might have cried a bit, (read: cried quite a bit) even though I don't know them at all. I just imagined Karen walking into the same scene, with news of our baby boy. Welcome to my world.
Another week until my next OB appointment... we're crawling to the finish line, but these little glimpses make it easier to wait. Strangers ask what I'm having, and say things like 'You must be due any day now, huh?' Nope, just under two months left now. 'Oh, you'll never go that long... He'll be early.'
Whatever you say! We wouldn't mind meeting him anytime after 37 weeks. :)
The Garage Door of Existential Dread
22 hours ago