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Plateau?

December 17, 2008

Have we talked about how big the baby is? And as the vessel, how big I am?

We were told at the dr. that we are “a week ahead,” meaning . . . what? That the baby is out of the average range for this period of time? Does it mean that it will also come out early?

We are glad that it’s big. At our first dr.’s visit ever, when it was not even supposed to be the size of a raisin — maybe sort of more like a currant — it tracked 2 days behind what is should have, sizewise, and while I didn’t lose sleep over this, necessarily, I was not happy. Our project was not even a whole currant yet — should we panic?

I was nearly a ten pounder, myself, and having an underweight zygote or whatever the science word is just didn’t seem right. Ever since, we’ve been catching up by leaps and bounds. The next time was 3 days ahead, then 5. Then they stop telling you you are ahead, but you get a length or a weight. When I get a metric, I clock it against a chart and lately, we’re been one, then 2 weeks ahead of the average. But that’s the average, right? And that takes into account people from . . . wherever people are sort of small. And the dr. never commented on it — until she said we were big. And when I went home and looked at the chart after that, we were suddenly 3 weeks above the average.

We prefer a leg-bone length that indicates a future in basketball to slick and little like a weasel, if we can infer that bone length correlates to robustness.

Plus, like half of what they calculate on is head circumference, and my niece, who was at 25th percentile of overall size after she was born, was at 95th percentile of head circumference. Getting a shirt over it is still somewhat of a battle.

Whatever the case, I am only 7 months along and starting to look ready for The Big Show. “Looks like someone is just about to have a baby,” said the woman at a supermarket this weekend. And suddenly the other day, I caught my husband gaping at my stomach as I changed into my pjs. “It doesn’t seem like I should get more pregnant than this, does it?” “No, it really does not,” he answered.

Getting bigger is a part of the process, and that is fine. As my friend H who is recovering from the birth of her second said a few days ago, “People are stretchy. Apparently.”

Two people (male friends) have suggested this week — week 32 — that perhaps I could plateau in terms of size. Like, not get bigger.

The first conversation, which was in my living room:

friend with red hair: You are BIG in your belly.

me: Mm. And I have 2 more months to go before I’m done.

friend with red hair: Huh. Maybe you’ll plateau. Don’t women sort of plateau? Maybe you’ll plateau.

me: That’d be great. You’ll have to excuse me, I have to go take off these pants so I can breathe better.

The second conversation, which was on the phone:

friend from college: I like your MyFace picture. (get it?)

me: Thanks. That’s from 2 months ago. I’d like to update but don’t know that there are good pictures to be taken anymore. I’m huge.

friend from college: Maybe you’ll plateau — don’t women plateau?

me: That’d be great.

friend from college: I love how radiant pregnant women are. For most of the time — til the end, when they look all waxy and misshapen and their eyes and their nose don’t match and their nose and their mouths don’t match and they are like aliens. At that point, I want to follow them around with a camera.

me: Huh.

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