I'll let you guys argue the semantics of whether or not this is actually ironic. My little brain is addled enough, and now that it is also full of even MORE snot (which I didn't think was possible) plus a Sudafed (drowsy formula), I'm going to hope that I don't pass out mid-sentence. I'm certainly not going to worry about whether or not my little situation is truly irony, or just a weird unexpected twist.
I went to the doctor yesterday. (That's not the ironic part). He measured my belly, said it was a good size, poked around a bit to be sure the baby's head was downward in a preferred launch position and that the butt was up by my diaphragm. All was well, he said. And then he looked at my chart and said, "I need you to schedule another ultrasound." "Really?" I thought. This late in the game, they want another ultrasound? I've seen this kid like four times already and he hasn't even been born yet! I'll be over 39 weeks by then (a reminder to those non-parents out there... gestation is normally 40 weeks, so D-Day is imminent.)
Yes, indeed, he wants an ultrasound. Turns out I have only netted seven pounds this pregnancy. Most women are supposed to gain at least 15... and if you are one of the beautiful people who is always at an ideal or lower weight, then you should aim for 25-30 (mainly so those of us not so fortunate as to always look like Barbie dolls can make fun of you for at least nine months.)
Personally, I haven't been aiming for anything, weight-wise. I eat, therefore I live. I have always had problems with weight, so by golly why would I change anything I do as far as eating goes when I am suddenly SUPPOSED to gain weight. But (and herein lies some of the irony), apparently, when I am TOLD to gain weight, I lose it. It happened when I was pregnant with Athena too, although by the end of that pregnancy, I think I netted closer to 15 pounds.
So... here is the REALLY ironic part. Why do they need an ultrasound? Why, to be sure the baby isn't too SMALL, of course. After all the conversations I have had with these doctors about fearing the baby would be too large based on my size and the size of my first-born, now they are testing to be sure he's not too small.
To the doctor's credit, he told me that he doesn't believe for a minute that the baby is too small. Quite the opposite, actually. However, we live in a litigious society that is also run by insurance companies, and if, for some reason, I birth a runt of a child, then someone will look at the doctor and say, "Well, DUMMY, didn't you notice she only gained seven pounds? Didn't you see this coming?" *sigh*
Of course, it's no biggie, really. Just a trip across town and another chance to get a look at He Who Must Not Be Named. I can think of worse ways to spend my time.