Unnecessarily large

My eighth birthday present: my brother Jules.

This photo was taken on the third day of his life (see the hospital band still on his left arm) and if you think he seems abnormally bulky, you'd be right. He weighed in at a completely unacceptable 10lbs 10oz – and this is why I've been earnestly asking Kickbaby not to take after Uncle Jules just yet.

Sadly, I don't think he's listening.

My obstetrician ordered a growth-study ultrasound because I'm still measuring three weeks ahead of where I should be. Nathan got me an appointment yesterday and later he went down and looked at the images with the radiologist, who said the following:

Kickbaby's measuring fully 34 weeks and 4 days (I'm only 31 weeks, 4 days).
His head is 95th percentile.
His body is 95th percentile.
His legs are 50th percentile (so, at least that's normal).
And lastly: "He's huge. Are you sure your wife doesn't have gestational diabetes or something?"

No, I absolutely do not have gestational diabetes.

For pitiful comparison's sake, Berry measured in the 4th (yes, fourth) percentile all over at birth, and stayed at the bottom of the charts for absolutely ages. The doctors are estimating that Kickbaby already weighs more than Berry did when she was born... he's going to be a whole new ballgame.

I've warned our families to resist any urges to buy cute-tiny-baby-clothes. Because, you know, he'll probably need a scooter or something.



(A shout-out to our intrepid mother – all five of us weighed at 10lbs or more at birth. Did I say intrepid? I meant unwise....)

(Wait: Aaron proudly informs me that he was the "runt" at a mere 9lbs 9oz. Yeah, I'm sure that makes a big difference.)