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.