Today marks a big milestone: I am officially 37 weeks pregnant, and even though the due date (September 19th) is still three weeks away, baby is technically considered full term now (or early full term at least, according to this). It’s hard to believe — the time really has flown by.
On a whole, I’m still feeling pretty good for being this pregnant. During my first pregnancy, I remember getting to a point where I couldn’t walk all the way to the train station without stopping a few times to rest, but this time I’m still able to trudge (waddle?) all the way there with no breaks and a 12-pound computer bag slung over one shoulder. Maybe some of it is that second pregnancies are easier — although blog evidence suggests that it was a lot hotter the summer I was pregnant with Lillian, so that might be a big part of it too.
Not to make things sound too easy, though — at this point I feel like I’ve upgraded from “big lumbering dinosaur” to “beached whale,” especially when trying to do things like climb out of bed or bend down to tie my own shoes. It probably doesn’t help that my weight gain is up to around 50 pounds now — definitely more than the recommended amount, but similar to last time, I’m not worrying too much about it.
On Wednesday, I had a routine doctor’s appointment, and part of it involved an ultrasound to estimate baby’s size. The verdict: she’s in the 88th percentile, estimated to weigh over seven pounds if she were to be born today. These estimates can vary by 15% in either direction, I’m told, but it sounds pretty likely that we’ve got another big baby a-brewin’.
And since I’ve had a previous vaginal delivery, and a history of having big babies (Lillian was nine pounds when she was born at 38 weeks), I’ll have the option of choosing an elective induction at 39 weeks if labor doesn’t start on its own before then. After talking it over with Joe, we both agreed that that’ll be the way to go for us.
But that means we have only around two weeks — maximum — before this little bundle of joy makes her entrance into the world. And boy oh boy, am I feeling unprepared.
The nursery (while getting very close in some ways) is still in a state of chaos, filled with paint cans and drop cloths and nothing baby-related in sight. The crib is sitting disassembled in the dining room. We don’t have an infant car seat installed or a hospital bag packed. Even at my job, the project that I’d been hoping to get (mostly) wrapped up before going on maternity leave keeps getting hit with delays outside of our control, and will likely end up with a bunch of loose ends for my coworkers to deal with — since next Friday will be my last day at the office, unless baby decides to come sooner than that.
On a rational level I know that none of this stuff matters too much in the broad scheme of things, and we’ll be able to scramble to get things together enough to get by even if baby does make a slightly early entrance. Still, I can’t help finding myself hoping that she stays put for another week or two — we still have lots of preparing to do!