Down to Double-Digits

According to the lovely lady on the right, I now have less than 100 days until our second son arrives!  What with “due dates” and projections and all.  (But you and I know these little ones have a schedule all their own!)

I went to see my OB today, and as usual had to wait about an hour and 15 minutes after my appointment time to actually see her see her.  I’m not one to complain, though, especially not after I realized what was keeping my doctor.  A woman emerged from her office in tears this afternoon, and it just seemed very clear what had happened, and as she held on tight to her friend in the waiting room and openly sobbed in front of everyone, there was a hush and solemnity that filled the room.  I myself sat quietly and cried, too, simultaneously wishing all hope for this woman and her suffering, and also being grateful for my precious, healthy children (and current fetus).  Even after the other woman left, it took some time for my doctor to get to me, since apparently she was the “mentor” in the office that day, which basically meant every and all sensitive/complicated questions and concerns went through her.  Ah well.  Eensy price to pay for having a fabulous OB (again…for you Google-rs…Wendy Smith, Beaverton Kaiser, looooove her!)

At one point, my OB poked her head into the exam room and said, “I’m coming!  I’m coming!  I promise!”  And then plopped a portable fetal moniter on the counter and said, “Here, have some fun with this while you wait!”  I figured what the heck, so I stretched out and found my son’s hearbeat.  It was pretty fun, actually.  Except that he kept kicking at the wand anytime I applied some pressure.  It made me laugh out loud several times.

The OB returned and we had a quick visit.  Everything is picture perfect with this pregnancy.  My blood pressure is spot-on, no threat of toxemia, and my OB actually said she was “proud” of my weight control.  I’m 6 1/2 months and have only gained 6 pounds total.  She had told me right off the bat that as a clinically obese person (oh, the pain, ladies…the pain! of hearing that) I should only gain about 15 pounds during this pregnancy.  She was very straightforward about the issue, but not degrading at all.  I’ve heard much less sympathy or understanding from other doctors, let me tell you (like the one time the dr explained that he couldn’t do an in-clinic ultrasound for someone “my size” and that I’d have to go to the hospital to use the industrial size machine).  My OB just kept looking at me today, though, and saying “Geesh!  You look great!”  That’s always nice to hear. 

The truth is, I feel pretty great, too.  I definitely get “wiggly,” which means that I sometimes get quite fatigued and a little dizzy, but I have trained myself to stop and wait until it passes.  No “pushing through it” for me these days!  I still have a fair amount of energy and am pretty even with emotions.  So far, so good, I’d say.  Let’s see if that holds for the next 90+ days!!

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