Yesterday, baby bee and I ventured into Orem for our unexpected ultra sound appointment. With slight trepidation, I waddled my way to the OBGYN area of the clinic and read the pregnancy mags like every other woman. (Interesting fact: If you sing a familiar song to a child during vaccinations or circumcision, their stress levels go down.) At ten past four, the ultra sound tech beckoned me back to her room, commenting on how small I looked for someone in my 33rd week. I already knew this. This is why baby bee and I were here. To make sure he was okay. Doctor's orders.
I am a magician.
I can measure small with a baby that is too big for his due date. That's right folks. Too big. Baby can come as early as next week if he so pleases and be completely fine. Preferably, he'll spend a little more time bruising my innards, but the truth is this:
Our lives are in the hands of a fetus.
time to geeeeeeet ready! (picture me rolling my arms in front of me during the 'geeeeet' and then making a huge cheerleader "Y" pose with my arms during the 'ready'. It adds to the excitement! :-) I will be thinking of you until your D-day.
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