I had an appointment on Wednesday. It was one of those quickies - urine, weight, blood pressure, baby's heartbeat, and measuring my belly. My doctor was concerned because I'm nearly in my ninth month and I'm "measuring small."
As I'm a heavier woman, I think my perception of my weight is probably different than outsiders' perception of my weight. I was shocked when people didn't notice that I went from having a fairly manageable gut to "MY GOODNESS, YOU ARE LARGE!" But most people didn't. It never occurred to me until I had a medical professional say it, that I'm just not that large. Despite all of the taunts from my brothers or the occasional mean person, I'm really not.
So my doctor scheduled me for another ultrasound this morning. The timing was good because The Targo is off of work today. It was just another morning of amazement. We got to see the baby wiggle around, suck its thumb, and fight back when the ultrasound tech was pushing on my abdomen. Lots of fun stuff. And we learned that despite my distorted view of my body and the measurements taken at my last office visit, the baby is just fine and perfectly normal. He or she is just kicking back and all stretched out in my freakishly long torso.