So husband and I took turns stabbing each other today. Wait. Before you look for us on the next installment of "COPS", let me clarify. I had an appointment with the nurse at the Diabetes Center and she has to show me how to inject my "wisp" of insulin. Rather than have me drop my drawers in the office, (What? Someone who allows me a wee bit of modesty??!!! That's unheard of!! I'm pregnant--I'm used to being on display to anyone in a white coat!), she had husband and me practice injecting eachother in the tricep.
I had to go first, to "get the feel" of breaking through the skin with the teeny weeny needle. The feel is icky. And I would rather have done it on myself--there's nothing quite so icky as piercing your spouse's skin with a needle. It's not romantic. There's no Barry White song about this experience...
But after husband stuck me, I realized it was no big deal--it feels like nothing. How is it possible that a needle going into one's flesh gives next to no sensation whatsoever? The mind is a powerful thing, though. Even now that I know it is no big deal, the thought of it and the sight of the needle still makes my heart race a bit and my gag reflex recoil a little. Once again, happy reassurance that I could never be a druggie.
So onto my next experience of the day. Two days ago, I called my OB office with a question regarding the growth and size of my little man. I was told by the tech that 3lbs, 9oz was in the 25% percentile for his gestational age and that is enough to put a mother into a neurotic tailspin. I have since done enough research and received enough reassurance from others that this is indeed no big deal....so it was pretty much out of my head.
Today the doctor called to share with me that all looks good. He did assuage my fears about the weight, saying that was a perfectly acceptable size and that actually, the little dude has a pretty big head. While his femur and abdomen measure about 31 weeks, his head is looking more like 32-33 weeks.....ummmmmm. This gave me an entirely NEW thing to tweak out about and I bombarded the doctor with "Is that normal????" "Is that okay?" in as many different ways as I could word it and as many times as possible without sounding like a mental patient reciting code.
Apparently at this point in pregnancy, especially when the baby is head down, it is hard to get an exact measurement, so he supposes it could be off a bit, but even if it is the actual size of his head, he says it's fine. No sign of cysts or abnormalities---just a giant head. He reassured me by sharing with my that his grandson has a big head. I'm sure the kid is thrilled to be grandpa's point of reference when calming neurotic pregnant ladies about their infant's super-sized skulls. "Yeah, sure. Tell everyone I have a giant noggin, Gramps! Thanks!" But it did make me feel a bit better....
After I hung up the phone it occurred to me just what my child is preparing to do to me. Notice it's not his feet that are big. Noooooooo, that would be too easy for mommy. Let's make sure the part of your body that is already the biggest, that is already going to rip the living daylights out of me, is just a bit BIGGER. Mmmmmm...something to look forward to.
Perhaps instead of giving out celebratory cigars in the waiting room, husband will hand out bauble-head dolls.