It's Like Being Pregnant in the Movie 'Groundhog Day'. . .

So I went in to the doctor this morning for an ultrasound. When I went in, I thought it was St. Patrick's Day today. Turns out it was actually Groundhog Day. . .at least for me and the baby. Two weeks ago when I was in there, they had me at 31 weeks. Today when I went in there, they decided that I am. . .31 weeks. I don't know why they thought it was a good idea to tell a pregnant woman that she actually has to be pregnant for two more weeks than they thought, but let me assure you, it's not a great idea. I spent the next 30 minutes after my appointment crying in the parking lot.

How does something like this happen? That's a very good question. So there has been much confusion about my due date and how many weeks I am since day 1. None of it has ever matched up right. This morning when I went in, there was a different ultrasound technician. She pulled my chart and was immediately confused, because she found 4 different due dates in my file! FOUR! (I did not even know it was this screwed up.) May 3 was apparently the original due date, then it got changed to May 13, but she also saw May 7 and May 9. And apparently none of these really matched up with how many weeks they had me at. So she decided just to do the ultrasound and get the measurements, although she couldn't tell us whether they were good or bad. She did confirm that the baby still appears to be a girl, which I was happy to hear - my pregnancy paranoia of choice is that the more pink stuff we get, the more terrified I am that a baby boy is going to come out.

Keeping in mind that the whole point of this ultrasound was to determine if I was going to have a giant baby since they think I have gestational diabetes (which they also screwed up and are wrong about, because I didn't actually fail the test and I clearly do not have gestational diabetes since I can, for the most part, eat whatever, and still have my sugars under 100 pretty consistently), if they went with the 33 week estimate, the baby was measuring only in the 11th percentile. So, clearly not a giant baby.

All of this led the new doctor that I am seeing to declare that we were sticking with the May 13 due date, which she felt was the most accurate. Unfortunately, that meant she had to back me up to 31 weeks, which didn't make me so happy. Going with the 31 week estimate, the baby was basically on target size-wise (although still slightly under, despite their firm belief in my supposed diabetes). They estimated her weight at 3.7 lbs. The doctor was really apologetic and kept stressing that their office had totally screwed up, yet somehow that still didn't make me look forward to my 2 extra weeks of pregnancy. . .

Anyway. . .after my meltdown, I realized that I was being selfish and that all that matters is what's best for the baby. So I went and bought her some books at Barnes and Noble, and that cheered me up (see picture below).

The ultrasound itself was good. It was fun to get a look at her again. She was head down (at that time at least) and was sleeping briefly when we got in there. The technician was having trouble getting some of the shots she needed, so she kept poking the baby to wake her up. Big mistake. She woke up and then was acting crazy all over the place so the technician really couldn't get any shots. At one point she had one of her legs above her head. At another point, she kicked the ultrasound wand really hard and messed up one of the pictures. We got a pretty good look at her face a couple of times, which would have been awesome to have a picture of, but of course, she would not stay still long enough.

Overall, the appointment was good news. The fake "diabetes" is perfectly under control (big surprise), the baby is very healthy and apparently the right size for a 31 week baby. Now we just have to get through the next 7 or 9 or 11 or however many weeks are actually left. And regardless of what the doctors say, the baby will come when she is ready to come. And hopefully at my next doctor's visit, I will be out of the movie Groundhog Day and actually be at 33 weeks instead of 31 for the 3rd time in a row. If not, someone will most definitely get punched in the face. . .