Today I’m linking up with Shell over at Things I Can’t Say for Rockin’ the Bump. I had intended this to be a Wordless Wednesday post, but I couldn’t resist a little commentary.
This is me 42 weeks pregnant with Owen the morning of my cousin’s wedding. Yup, 42 weeks pregnant. I hadn’t planned on going to the wedding. I thought I’d have a newborn baby and didn’t think I could manage a wedding that soon. I had an ultra sound and a non-stress test earlier that weekend to make sure everything was fine. My obstetrician said something like, “The baby’s fine. But we think he’s over ten pounds. I think he hasn’t dropped because he won’t fit. You might want to consider a c-section.” I said, “Over ten pounds? Sign me up!”
Two days later I was holding this guy. He wasn’t over ten pounds, only nine and a half. But his head was in the 95 percentile. I can’t express how grateful I am to live in a time when surgical births are routine.
This is Owen’s birthday two years later I had this baby bump. It’s the only picture I could find of myself pregnant with James. There are however, thousands of pictures of Owen during this time. I must have always been the one holding the camera. I had a second c-section because I had never heard of a second baby being smaller than the first.