28 Weeks

Yesterday, we had another ultrasound….our 28 week ultrasound!  The purpose of the ultrasound was just to check on the baby’s growth and that is all we were able to do.  No cute face photos.  No video of the baby sucking his toes.  Our little guy is squished inside me, with his face right down “in position.”  The ultrasound technician said he isn’t likely going to change his position for the rest of the pregnancy, as he is pretty wedged-in right now.  I think The Prince was a little disappointed that we didn’t get to see our baby’s face, but I was actually relieved that my intuition about the baby’s positioning was correct.  My body and I are apparently starting to get better at this whole communication thing.

Given my gestational diabetes, we anticipated that the baby would be a little big.  He was a little big at the 22 week scan.  I knew going into the scan that the average weight of a baby at 28 weeks of pregnancy is 2.2 pounds.  Our little chunker is measuring in at an impressive 3.3 pounds.  As I predicted, he is husky…but not freakishly large.  His height and weight are proportional and, while Dr. C said the baby certainly qualifies as a “big baby,” he is still in the 79^th percentile, which isn’t alarming.  Dr. C told us that a baby generally stays in the percentile it starts in, so our baby will likely be right around 8 – 8.5 pounds if we induce at 38 weeks.  However, Dr. C warned that “big babies” notoriously don’t fit well into the formula doctors use to determine fetal height and weight, so, our baby could still surprise us at birth.  The most exciting news of the day was Dr. C’s announcement that our baby has a 99% chance of survival if he is born now…we’re “out of the woods.”  Dr. C had to add the caveat that the statistic assumes only a premature birth and not any underlying unforeseen medical problems, but still…it is a happy statistic to hold onto.

(P.S. - I am glad that Dr. C told me about the 79th percentile thing because according to http://www.babycenter.com/average-fetal-length-weight-chart  the baby is measuring at 31 weeks.  I would have been freaked out if Dr. C had just left me with the weight and no other info.)

My next doctor’s appointment is in 2 weeks and my next ultrasound is in 3 weeks.  At that point, I will be in the office 1 time per week throughout the rest of November and December, increasing my visits to 2 times per week in mid-December.  I chuckle when the doctors, nurses and receptionists try to “console” me about the number of appointments I will have to go to.  I want to say…”Do you know what an IVF schedule is like?”  But I refrain, smile, and just accept their kindness. 

On a completely unrelated and “nobody probably cares” note, I am likely selling my car today.  I’ve had my SUV for four years and I love it.  We put it on the market a couple of months ago, when we figured out that it would be difficult for me to take a decent maternity leave and pay car payments.  We have two other vehicles (my husband’s small SUV/car crossover that he leases and a beat-up old pick-up truck that is paid off), so it just made sense to part with my vehicle…the one with the biggest payments.  The market sucks as far as selling a car privately right now, and the interest in our SUV was sparse until the last couple of weeks.  Last week, a man who lives a couple of states over from NY contacted me because he wants to buy my vehicle for his wife, as a present (nice gift!).  He is bringing a certified check for the whole purchase price with him today, even though he has never seen or driven the vehicle.  The whole thing makes me sick to my stomach.  I’m not sure if I’m sick because I hate parting with my car, because we are selling the car for $5,000 under its value (The Prince is adamant that it is better to get rid of the vehicle for under value but quickly, than to wait for someone to pay a reasonable price for it), or because the insane “people-pleasing” part of me is obsessed with the idea that buyer isn’t going to like the car or is going to find something wrong with it and will reject the car (which in my messed up brain means “reject me”).  The Prince keeps reminding me that everything will be okay, no matter how this transaction works out.   He’s right, of course…but my hormones or personality issue or whatever is wrong with me are making this so tough to get through.  I’ll be really happy when the whole car thing is all over, and I can move on to the next thing on my “Before Baby Gets Here To-Do List.” 

(UPDATE:  The car is sold.  I wouldn't say that I feel relieved per se, but the sick to my stomach feeling is gone.  Who knew you could get so attached to a pile of metal and plastic?)