We had maternity pics taken at 36 weeks pregnant. This is what I looked like:
Well, what my belly looked like at least. Let's just say I barely looked 30 weeks and was measuring small as well. I was, however, continuing to grow every week, but the doctor was still worried. I had already had one later ultrasound a week before and also a non-stress test. Paige had past both with flying colors. So we went into our regular doctor appt. the Monday after taking maternity pictures. I still was measuring small (just like I had the entire pregnancy so no surprise there). The Dr. decided he wanted to get another ultrasound Wednesday. He doesn't say anything about inducing me, but Rick and I both think that if she looks small on the ultrasound that what's going to happen. Of course, Rick has just gone on baby watch at work which should mean only local flights. But, being the good, helpful guy he is and thinking we have another month to go, he agrees to be put on a maintenance alert in case parts need to be flown anywhere. People never get alerted....except for him, two hours after we get home from the doctor's office. He packs up and flies off to Alaska. With a part that would have cost a tenth as much to just ship to the base up there. Seriously. If I was in charge of the AF- hello, FedEx.
So I go to my ultrasound on Wednesday and she's measuring on par with everything except her abdomen which is three weeks behind and her weight is below where the all-knowing babycenter app on the smartest phone I know is telling me it should be. The doctor isn't supposed to call until the next day so we both have restless nights. It hits me early the next morning that we have no food in the freezer and I should cook up a storm just in case they decide to induce me. I call it stress cooking. Finally, the nurse calls and says everything looks fine and they'll see me next Monday. Big sigh of relief. Until she calls Friday to say actually, go ahead and come in early for a non-stress test. Great.
Rick's stuck in Alaska at this point with a broke plane. On Sunday he calls the bosses to let them know that if the appt. doesn't go well on Monday he's going to have to leave. Luckily, they are very understanding.
I go in Monday and again Paige kicks butt (literally) on her non-stress test. The doctor comes in measures me, looks at the test results, looks at my records, and says let's go ahead and get that baby out this week. And by this week I mean tonight. Well, since Rick isn't here how about tomorrow? And try to get him home because tomorrow is when it's happening.
He said everything looked okay but her abdomen was small and he was worried about her becoming stressed and would rather get her out now. Like right now.
He goes out to call over to Labor and Delivery while I text my mom and Rick the "They're inducing me tomorrow. No, I'm not kidding. Start packing" text message.
And that's where we pause for nursing and diaper changes.
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