32w

Just when I thought I'd gotten used to this whole pregnancy thing, just when I thought I was sailing along in the home stretch with little more to do than get bigger and less mobile...I got thrown for a loop.

At my appt. yesterday, my doctor told me that our last ultrasound showed evidence of low growth - meaning Ferris isn't gaining weight properly and is on the low end of the growth scale. To be precise, Ferris falls in the 37th percentile for growth. This isn't necessarily a cause for concern (as I keep repeating to myself over and over) but to be on the safe side, my doctor wants to do another ultrasound in two weeks to see how things are progressing. There is a possibility that there isn't enough amniotic fluid surrounding the baby, which is of more concern than the growth factor alone.

My initial reaction to this was unease and discomfort at the mere thought that something could be awry - followed by the rational side of me kicking in to bring reminders that until the ultrasound, we don't have definitive answers and therefore no reason to worry. Once my defense mechanism of using humor to handle stressful situations caught up, we were on to comparing Ferris to my mother in her ever-present quest to keep her weight down and her tendency to fast before doctor's visits in an effort to cleanse herself of any wine and food related toxins she may have ingested over the 6 months prior.

A conversation with my sister gave me the reassurance I needed, as always - two of her best friends had this exact scenario during their pregnancies and everything ended up ok - they both delivered perfectly healthy babies, albeit a bit early and a bit on the small side. As long as Ferris is healthy, I'm comfortable with the notion that I'm not facing the prospect of giving birth to a linebacker.

Ferris is still insanely active - yesterday when my doctor was attempting to hear the heartbeat, the squirt delivered a powerful kick that knocked the doppler off of my stomach. At night, we sit and watch my stomach spasm and roll with Ferris' acrobatics. When I place my hand on the right side of my belly, Ferris reacts by curling into a ball and pressing his/her butt up against my hand. I guess it's not the size of the baby in the kick, it's the size of the kick in the baby....or something like that.