You should have SEEN mom and dad’s faces during the ENTIRE monitoring process on Wednesday. Out of this world. I kicked, punched, rolled and did everything I could to get that stupid thing off. It didn’t work. But they got quite a show. It was like alien meets karate (or so mom says)– all I know is that those squeezy things did me no good at all. They made me feel all squished. Apparently they’re supposed to help you come out if you don’t have a doctor present to saw your mom open and all of that, but I didn’t like it. Scalpel, please!
The size ultrasound was amazing. I did my best to hide my face. I could not hide that I had a bunch of hair, and the umbilical cord was floating around my face. Weird. I hear the pictures of it look strange. At any rate, mom has all approximately 7 lbs 7 oz of me hanging in here and growing day by day to contend with. I’m planning on doing more of the kicking/punching stuff as long as possible. It’s really freaky. 2o more days until I’m out of here– unless I break the ice (water) so to speak a little early or something else wacky happens. Doctor says I’m awe-some and seems completely unconcerned.
Mom keeps having twinges from scar tissue or muscle/ligament issues that slow her down, those started Saturday and have just gotten worse. She’s definitely not happy about it, but there’s nothing she can do but just slow down. Everything else is great, she’s started sneaking me cupcakes leftover from big sister’s birthday party when no one is going to take her blood sugar anytime soon. She even had one at lunch yesterday and her blood sugar was perfect an hour later– she is rolling her eyes right now, I can tell you. It’s starting to dawn on the parents that really, they need to get some things going around the house to make it easier for when I decide to punch my way free at 2 a.m. some morning. I heard there were threats of cookies being made and put in the freezer this weekend. Cookies make everyone happy.
Every other sentence mom utters also has ‘diapers’ in it. Anyone know what those are? Apparently, they are important to mom and she is not ‘done’ yet, whatever that means. I’ve been warned over and over again that it is NOT my month, that I need to wait until November so mom can get diapers done–dad thinks she’s crazy. He could care less about most of this stuff, as long as I am healthy and happy. 2 thumbs up for thinking positive, dad. You know mom is starting the slow slide to madness with less than 3 weeks left to go.
