Just when you thought one (practically) single, pregnant, working mother could not do any more…it appears that she can. I can grow babies. And big babies. And perhaps even grow them quicker than most people can grow babies. I know. JUST the skill I needed to work on!

Yesterday I had by fortnightly check up with my Ob. I *thought* that it would be my 33 week check up (I will be 34 weeks on Friday). Last check up I was measuring 2 weeks ahead of where I was – but put it down to a growth spurt – or perhaps denial – to really think about what that meant. So, yesterday when I walked into her office and she (actually) raised her eyebrows at my stomach that entered a few seconds before me, I got a little worried. She said until we measured and had a feel that she wouldn’t really comment. So, we made polite chit chat for a while and then moved on over to the business side of the appointment.

I was measured and am showing as 36 (!) weeks. Yes, as in 2 weeks ahead (almost 3 !!! of where I thought that I was). She had a feel, head is down and ready to go. We had a chat and discussed options. What all this means. A scan has been ordered for next week to really see what is going on in there but she said some words that you don’t EVER want to hear “this certainly looks like a 4kg plus baby here”. 4 kgs. PLUS. THAT HAS TO COME OUT OF MY VAGINA!

We talked about inductions, and starting smoking to stunt the growth (of course we were joking here peeps and proves just how much my Ob gets me and much I love her). And we are waiting for my next appointment in 2 weeks to talk, you know DELIVERY.

I gathered my stuff together. Got in the car and left a frazzled message on Rob’s phone updating him on the fact that we could have a babe in our arms in just 3 (!) weeks time. Then I spent the rest of the afternoon/night trying to get my head around it. I know that it could be nothing – when I was in the late stages of pregnancy with Daisy I was all stomach and was induced to find out that I carry the world’s largest spa bath amount of amniotic fluid inside of me and she was actually only 8 pounds. I know that after all this talk I may well be sitting around in 6 weeks time twiddling my thumbs wondering what all the fuss was about (except I KNOW that this won’t be the case as I would have a 15 pound child in me by that stage). I know that no matter what. Ready or not. This babe is coming. And I’m not ready. I’m not ready. I”M NOT READY. Did you hear me? I AM NOT READY! I really didn’t want to have to be induced and have that god awful drip put into my arm that makes labour come on in the fastest and most awful of ways. I wanted to know what it was like to have your waters break. To slowly go into labour and try and have a go at you know, just being in labour.

Getting ahead of myself? You bet I am. I am the master of that. Of coming up with all the worst possible scenarios determined that they WILL happen to me. Then there is work. I know that I just need to stop. But I don’t want to be not working in 6 weeks time, having used up all my non-existent maternity leave, going crazy with the waiting. The waiting. I remember from last time when I had 3 weeks off that I went a little stir crazy with all. that. waiting. around. And the calls. The calls! “have you had the baby yet?” Yes, why yes I have, did I forget to mention it?

I guess what it boils down to is that I just want someone to tell me what to do. My work, or my Ob tell me “this is what needs to happen”. Slap me and tell me what to do. I want Rob, or someone to take control of the situation and make me just stop. ENOUGH of all this madness. It’s time to stop. Refocus on what is important. Family. Getting ready for a baby and actually stopping and getting excited about this. This could well be the last time I am ever pregnant so I need to stop and enjoy it. Savour it. It’s just that I have been treading water for so long with Rob and his work and surviving these past 9 weeks that I have lost sight of what really matters. Actually, from just writing that all down, I think I have just slapped myself. I know what I have to do. THIS is why I write in here, it helps me clear my head and work things out (don’t you love being an active part of my therapy and seeing my madness unravel before you?)

OK. So while I work out what to do, and execute a plan, please feel free to send through any suggestions on just how to deliver a 15 pound child THROUGH MY VAGINA and what exactly should I say to the news crew when they come in and do that light-hearted story at the end of the news where it shows that a woman in Australia gave birth to the biggest child that ever there were….


  1. It will be like passing a marshmellow (Scrubs quote).

    Just think- pool of fluid. Pool of fluid.

    Can’t wait to meet your little one, sooner than we expected!

  2. Hmmm, just think positive thoughts. They kept telling me Josie was huge and then she was only 6 pounds! She came out and I was actually disappointed because I was expecting a much bigger babe! Plus, where is the rest of that weight?!

    You could have your husband flood the house so you run around like a crazy person and lift up couches to clean underneath them and then your water breaks. Ta da!

  3. Slap, slap, slappity, slap!

    did that do the trick?

  4. Hey 4kgs? Piece of cake 😛 (Eloise was 4kg @39w1d but posterior so needed to be ‘evicted’ by c-sec after long labour)

    Think of it this way, a lot less to worry about with a big bub than a small one…?

    Feeling better? I do sympathise – I remember my obs+ colleagues saying when palpatating ‘oh good size baby’ which would sent me into ruptures of like-panic… lol.

  5. If it’s any consolation, a friend of mine was measured and even measured on a scan at 36 weeks and told she had a 4+kg whopper on her hands, and she was actually only 3.3kg… I was told those measurements are notoriously unreliable. Fingers crossed!!!

  6. whatever the scenario it will arrive and all will be good.You will be relieved and in love with a new person and all that has to offer.krinny

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