So I went to the doctor yesterday, and he told me that Milo is getting big. In fact, he said it several times, in a very serious voice. Now, common sense might lead you to ask, "How big?" Unfortunately, I was so panicked by that statement, I forgot to even ask what that meant. Visions of episiotomies and mandatory c-sections were going through my head, and I lost all sense of common sense. It happens.
And then I asked if it was still okay for me to travel to the conference at which I was supposed to present next week. The doctor looked at me and said, as serious as could be, "What happens if your water breaks while you're there? What would you do?"
To which I replied, "Um, it's not supposed to break until December 21st, right?"
In other words, no, I won't be presenting at the conference. I will be sitting on my giant bum eating ice cream drumsticks and watching The Biggest Loser (it's ironic how those two things go together, eh?)
Now it seems like everyone I come across needs to tell me how big I am, and every time someone does, I think, "Well, you just have no idea. But please, dear Lord, let Milo be small. And let him stay put a little longer."
Wow, Kate - don't let the doctor scare you! You will be fine, and Milo will be perfect. It's the whole "end of pregnancy" nerves and hormones. And most of the time, the dr is wrong on the size!
ReplyDeleteAims is right Kate. Baby's weight is only an estimate. It is a guessing game until the baby gets here. And Milo won't come early. He'll be right on time. Enjoy the excuse to put your feet up and eat ice cream!
ReplyDelete