If He Were a Dinosaur, He'd Be Gigantisaurus Rex

This morning we went to the first of our now weekly doctor appointments. While the doctor was measuring my uterus, she paused and asked both Stephen and I how big we were when we were born. We both replied we were seven-something. She said she thinks he'll be larger than that - probably at least in the eight pound range - and scheduled us to have another ultrasound next week to get a better estimate of the baby's size. I asked her if she thought there'd be any problems for me to deliver vaginally because that seems to be a shared concern for some people and, of course, she replied that there's really no way of knowing until I'm actually giving birth. COME ON. This is one instance in life in which I do not want to take the "we'll cross that bridge when we come to it" or "let's play it by ear" route. I want plans. I want to know what to be prepared for. I do not want to go through twenty hours of labor and then have the doctor decide maybe a C-section would be a better option for me. I know a couple of ladies who had this experience and I know I do not wish to join that club. Talk about having the worst of both worlds. There had better be both a mathematician and an engineer in the ultrasound room next week toting lots of compasses and calculators and survey equipment. We must get this equation solved pronto.

Happily, at least we'll get another sneak peek of Baby Neener next week. It's going to be weird seeing a full-sized baby lurking in the depths of my body - I know he's changed a ton since the last time we saw his tiny little fetus body at the end of August. Stephen will likely post another video like he did of the last ultrasound, so stay tuned...