I had a doctor appointment today. My doc is so cute. When she came in, I was lying down. She didn’t ask me to get up. She tilted her head sideways and just started chatting with me. I really like her and I’m so glad I switched to her.
We went through the usual questions. I told her about my Braxton-Hicks contractions, which are pretty much on schedule. No other funny pains. Well, none that are unexpected. Cuz the sciatic nerve is kicking in again, but that’s not unusual.
Last time, she measured my stomach and mentioned that I was a little bigger, but didn’t say how much. So this time, I asked her. My belly is measuring at 37 weeks. And that’s spot on to my original guess of when we conceived. And guess what that means. Thirty-seven weeks is technically full term. This kid could come anytime in the next three weeks. Seriously. I asked her what else I should be doing and she said I should be getting ready. Pack a bag. She realizes that none of this is exact and I could really be at 37 weeks, and not 35. (I love that she admits it’s not perfect, nor is she adamant that I have 5 weeks to go.)
The way I see it, the kid will probably come around the 7th, which is right when I’ll stop working. Sorry, mom, no time off for you! So we’ll see what happens. Who knows? We could be with my family in the Midwest for Thanksgiving. Doubtful, but it’s within the realm of possibilities.
Holy cow, there’s a baby coming! I guess we’d better start getting ready. Time to go get that crib.