Growing Goliath

Today I am officially vindicated. I had another ultrasound to check on the PBC this morning. The main concern has been his size, and my insistence that February is a ridiculous due date. As it turns out, I am completely right.

At 30 weeks, your average fetus is about 15 inches long and weighs in the ballpark of just under 3 pounds. Apparently, the only thing measuring at 30 weeks on my little guy is his femur. I think the tech was actually shocked when she started taking a close look at how he is shaping up in other categories.

See, the PBC is about 4 and 3/4 pounds right now. This puts him on track with an approximately 34 week gestation--a full month ahead of where the docs have been saying he is. His head is also big according to the tech, with skull and brain development somewhere in the area of 33 weeks. She couldn't get a length on him, confessing "he's too big for me to measure that."

We also found out that he is indeed head down--a good thing, since he is too big to maneuver much in there. He is positioned low, and I was able to confirm that yes, indeed, he is "feeling like he's ready to fall out" when the tech asked me. Too bad labor isn't really that easy!

The only unfortunate thing about all this is that being right, being vindicated, and the PBC being HUGE, will most likely not matter a hill of beans to the OB. See, it is standard practice not to change a due date based on late ultrasounds for size. My argument--that I'm only getting back the 3 weeks they stole 5 months ago--is likely to fall on deaf ears. If my doc won't change the due date, it means she is equally unlikely to plan any sort of early delivery without using that Feb 8th date as the baseline.

I'm sincerely hoping that God will see fit to induce me Himself. And much sooner than medically expected. I'm thinking 4-6 weeks--which would still make this guy my longest pregnancy. It's just enough time to stand in my friend's wedding--the dress for which has already been fitted for a huge pregnant belly. And it will get us through the holidays without adding newborn baby chaos into the mix. And, hopefully, means I can mantain my sanity--if not my vanity--til he comes.