Well, no major news to report, but here I am anyway. The baby hasn't dropped, and there have been no steady contractions, so we're still in "wait for it" mode for now. I'm done with overtime for a little while, not having signed up for any shifts past the due date, so that'll be a little easier on my sleep schedule (though not on my wallet). Cori is clearly disappointed that nothing has actually happened yet, and seems nearly retired to the idea of an inevitable C-Section. I'm trying to be more positive, but I think I just end up coming across as annoying.
There's one positive thing she can't deny, however. Today is our 5th wedding anniversary, and with the official due date being tomorrow, Cori was worried that the baby might be born on our anniversary, forever "stealing" that day of the year from us. Well, unless she's already in labor and has simply decided not to inform me, it looks like we're probably going to go at least a few days past our anniversary before baby gets here.
Five years... wow. It's truly amazing that she hasn't choked me to death by now. You know, now that I think about it, I've never even lived at the same address for five years. Oh, I'm sure this landmark accomplishment has very little to do with any redeeming qualities of my own, and much more to do with Cori's remarkable level of patience with my notable lack of redeeming qualities. Regardless, we've made it a whole five years, and I haven't driven her completely crazy yet. Don't worry, I'm sure I will have made some progress by this time next year... Stay tuned.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Big news (Well, not THE big news...)
As I mentioned early this morning, Cori and I went to the doctor's office today to have another ultrasound and try to determine the weight of the baby. After warning us that the margin of error is nearly 1 pound, 6 ounces in either direction (an awfully large margin of error in my personal opinion), they managed to come up with a rough estimate...
9 pounds, 1 ounce.
Holy baloney. Cori was visibly shaken by this news, and as much as she would never admit it, a flash of resentment splashed across her face and directed itself at me, as if to say, "You. You, with your broad shoulders and your big head. You will be the reason that this labor will be more difficult than passing a Social Security reform bill. The blame lies with you. You did this to me." Then, as quickly as it appeared, the furious fleeting glance evaporated, leaving me to wonder if I had imagined it.
Let's discuss the aforementioned margin of error for a moment, shall we? When we're talking about something that weighs less than 10 pounds, a 1.3 pound margin of error seems a little extreme. By my math, assuming an estimate of 9 pounds 1 ounce, and a spread of 1 pound 6 ounces in either direction, that means that the baby could weigh anywhere from 7 pounds 11 ounces to 10 pounds 7 ounces. That's the difference between "Oh, let it go a few days and see if you start labor on your own" and "Get this woman to a hospital immediately! She's about to give birth to a 3-year-old!" With all the medical advances we've made in the last few decades, you'd think that something like the approximate weight of the baby would be old hat. You'd think that, but you'd be wrong, it seems.
Anyway, Cori is more than a little worried that this will end in a C-Section, which she would really like to avoid. My mother, who certainly means well, helped nothing by volunteering a little information about my own birth. Specifically, she mentioned to Cori that at the time of my delivery, I had the biggest head of any baby in recorded history at that particular hospital. Thanks for that, Mom. Here I am trying to be reassuring and tell my wife that everything is going to be fine, and now she thinks that she's going to have to deliver a regulation basketball.
The wife headed home and vowed to do jumping jacks until the baby drops, while I returned to work disappointed that it didn't turn out to be baby time. On most days, I would tell you that I am an abnormally patient person, but it seems that today is not like most days.
9 pounds, 1 ounce.
Holy baloney. Cori was visibly shaken by this news, and as much as she would never admit it, a flash of resentment splashed across her face and directed itself at me, as if to say, "You. You, with your broad shoulders and your big head. You will be the reason that this labor will be more difficult than passing a Social Security reform bill. The blame lies with you. You did this to me." Then, as quickly as it appeared, the furious fleeting glance evaporated, leaving me to wonder if I had imagined it.
Let's discuss the aforementioned margin of error for a moment, shall we? When we're talking about something that weighs less than 10 pounds, a 1.3 pound margin of error seems a little extreme. By my math, assuming an estimate of 9 pounds 1 ounce, and a spread of 1 pound 6 ounces in either direction, that means that the baby could weigh anywhere from 7 pounds 11 ounces to 10 pounds 7 ounces. That's the difference between "Oh, let it go a few days and see if you start labor on your own" and "Get this woman to a hospital immediately! She's about to give birth to a 3-year-old!" With all the medical advances we've made in the last few decades, you'd think that something like the approximate weight of the baby would be old hat. You'd think that, but you'd be wrong, it seems.
Anyway, Cori is more than a little worried that this will end in a C-Section, which she would really like to avoid. My mother, who certainly means well, helped nothing by volunteering a little information about my own birth. Specifically, she mentioned to Cori that at the time of my delivery, I had the biggest head of any baby in recorded history at that particular hospital. Thanks for that, Mom. Here I am trying to be reassuring and tell my wife that everything is going to be fine, and now she thinks that she's going to have to deliver a regulation basketball.
The wife headed home and vowed to do jumping jacks until the baby drops, while I returned to work disappointed that it didn't turn out to be baby time. On most days, I would tell you that I am an abnormally patient person, but it seems that today is not like most days.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Any day now... please?
It's four days till the due date, and I'm having trouble being patient. Cori is uncomfortable pretty much all the time now, and it's hard for her to sleep for more than a couple hours at a time. I'm working 64 hours a week so that we can recuperate some of the income lost when she left her job, and in spite of her positive attitude about it, I think my heavy schedule is really starting to wear on her.
Later this morning we get to go to the doctor's office for an ultrasound, presumably to get the baby's approximate weight. The doctor wasn't really clear on what the weight would help us determine at this point, but Cori is hoping that if it's high enough, they'll be willing to just induce labor. I am by no means so confused that I think having a baby will be a vacation, but I'm pretty tired from my marathon work schedule. As such, I kinda hope they induce as well, if only so I can take my vacation days from work.
Even with all the job-related stress and the waiting for the baby to arrive, I have to say that I am as happy as I have ever been. I'm absolutely bubbling over with excitement about becoming a father for the first time, I'm overwhelmingly blessed to be in a job where I can pick up so much overtime and provide for my family, and the Eagles finally won a game this past Sunday. Okay, okay, football doesn't really fit in with the other major life events, but good news is good news, I say.
For those of you who haven't seen it yet, here's the video from the ultrasound (complete with fancy-schmancy background music provided by Allison Krauss):
...and because Google's embedded video functionality is sometimes less than dependable, here are two different direct links to the video as well: [ Google ] [ Magicite ]
I'll post again when we have more news.
Later this morning we get to go to the doctor's office for an ultrasound, presumably to get the baby's approximate weight. The doctor wasn't really clear on what the weight would help us determine at this point, but Cori is hoping that if it's high enough, they'll be willing to just induce labor. I am by no means so confused that I think having a baby will be a vacation, but I'm pretty tired from my marathon work schedule. As such, I kinda hope they induce as well, if only so I can take my vacation days from work.
Even with all the job-related stress and the waiting for the baby to arrive, I have to say that I am as happy as I have ever been. I'm absolutely bubbling over with excitement about becoming a father for the first time, I'm overwhelmingly blessed to be in a job where I can pick up so much overtime and provide for my family, and the Eagles finally won a game this past Sunday. Okay, okay, football doesn't really fit in with the other major life events, but good news is good news, I say.
For those of you who haven't seen it yet, here's the video from the ultrasound (complete with fancy-schmancy background music provided by Allison Krauss):
...and because Google's embedded video functionality is sometimes less than dependable, here are two different direct links to the video as well: [ Google ] [ Magicite ]
I'll post again when we have more news.
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