So she’s upside down and rarin’ to go.
At thirty-five weeks old, Bean is weighing in at a whopping five pounds, eight ounces. If we go past our due date of June 3, I’m looking at another over-eight pounder. (Bug was 8 lb., 12.5 oz., and quite frankly, I’m okay with that. They come out sturdier, which is good for a clumsy mama.) (Just kidding.)
So she is currently right on track with that due date in mind, and if she doesn’t come out on her own, we’re looking at an induction date of June 11. So, in forty-five days (or less, if she knows what’s good for her) our little trio will become a foursome. And I will no longer be outnumbered amongst the Tennessee Buttrams.
She was all curled up at the ultrasound, so we couldn’t confirm her lady parts were still, well, lady parts, but the ultrasound technician was 99% sure when she called it the first time, and according to her bragging rights, she hasn’t missed one yet. I’m not expecting any surprises. (Regardless, the super-soft pink embroidered blanket with her name on it will not go to waste.)
Bug has been “breaking in” some of Bean’s new toys, and some of his old baby toys, just to make sure they still work and apparently are newborn-friendly. (They are.) Gotta love the kid’s concern for his baby sister. Sorry, Mike, but I do believe Bug is well on his way to out-brothering you. Egghead.
So. Wow. Nothing like discussing labor and delivery with your OB to make things seem just a little bit more real.
(Stop for a minute, baby, I’m so glad you’re mine.)