I’m a woman of small stature. I’ve never been in the ‘above average’ category for anything really… except during pregnancy, and possibly my aptitude for food consumption.
You see, I’m one of those anomalies. One of those women that somehow manages to grow babies that are too large for their bodies, and no matter how many times someone says to me, ‘Your body won’t grow a baby bigger than it can handle’, it doesn’t change the fact for me, I just do.
Watch: Bec Judd shares the one thing no one tells you about pregnancy. Hint: it’s got to do with your “water breaking” (post continues after video…)
Now to be fair, I’m not yet at the end of my third pregnancy, so time will tell, however, all the usual indicators are there. The ones that point towards another gigantic offspring growing in my ever-stretching uterus. The growth scans are on par with the OB’s best guess, and the fundal height is off the charts… as per usual.
Up until this point though, everything was smooth sailing, and we had a plan. Together with my OB, we were confident that it could still be done, we would work on an early induction. Hoping to ensure a slightly smaller baby, and a somewhat natural delivery (just to clarify, my second was born suffering mild should dystocia at only 39 weeks gestation).