This isn't what I was hoping to hear today, but the news wasn't surprising either. After all of my bellyaching over gaining weight during pregnancy and trying to fit into the magical 25-35 pound range, I've gained almost nothing over the past month. While I'm sure the whole pound-a-week in your third trimester is equivalent to the centimeter-per-hour dilation in labor thing (that is,
The baby's head, arms, and legs are where they're supposed to be, but her tummy measurement is almost three weeks behind. She's tall and skinny. Perfect for shopping at a sample sale. Not so great if you're a fetus.
The good news is that everything else looks beautiful. When a baby in utero stops growing in proportion to herself, doctors look for high blood pressure in the mother (nope) and signs that the placenta is starting to deteriorate (none). The baby is energetic, and her practice breathing looks beautiful. But it would still probably be in this little one's best interest to get her out in the next few weeks.
Dr. K. was very quick to mention that the baby isn't in any danger. She didn't seem worried, but I could feel her curiosity-bordering-on-concern as she double-checked the sonographer's measurements.
"You're lean," she said. "It could just be her build."
She weighed nearly 5 lbs. four weeks ago. Today, she's 6 lbs. 1 oz.
As I left the hospital parking lot, I reflected on how skinny Westley looked when he was born. I wondered if maybe this is just the growth pattern my babies follow, and we just never knew with Westley because my prenatal care wasn't nearly as high-tech. (Of course there's no way to know now.) I also reflected on my long mental list of the natural induction methods.
The baby will come when she's good and ready, I always want to say.
I still trust that answer. I just hope she gets ready soon.