Seven Pounds.

Pop quiz. Is Seven Pounds:

1) The title of a recently released Will Smith movie?
2) The size of my unborn child, who is measuring nearly two pounds ahead of schedule?

The answer, my friends, is yes.

I went to the doctor on Friday for the first of my now weekly appointments. My blood pressure has been giving me some trouble, so in an effort to avoid bed rest, I've been scheduled for weekly OB appointments, ultrasounds, and non-stress tests. My appointment with the doctor was fine; however she measured my fundus (stomach) and started laughing. Evidently I was measuring "quite large." I asked how big a baby is supposed to be at 35 weeks, and she said between 4.75 and 5.25 pounds. So I figured "quite large" meant maybe six pounds? Big, but manageable.

On to the ultrasound, where the tech said "please don't panic" before telling me that my baby is currently measuring at a whopping 7lbs. She tried to comfort me by saying that it's not unheard of — why just earlier in the week she had a patient who measured almost six and a half pounds! (Gee, thanks.) She estimates that my baby will weigh in around 10lbs at birth. You know, give or take. (Please, please let it be take...)

While that news was fairly traumatizing, what really got to me were the ultrasound photos. He looks...huge. In some of the pictures, his cheeks were so chubby they were hanging over the sides of his mouth — kind of like someone you'd expect to see on a TLC show called "The World's Heaviest Man" or on MTV's "True Life: I Weigh Two Tons."

All I could think was - my sweet baby boy looks like the Two-Ton Man? What did I do to make him like this? I really could not see any other explanation except complete failure as a mother. Which of course led to tears. Lots of them. In fact, I was pretty much inconsolable for the remainder of the evening.

But after a good night's sleep (crying makes me really tired) and another look at those photos (yep, still chubby), I got over it (kind of). So what if my kid is huge? He's coming out one way or another...his projected size just confirms my absolute need for drugs during labor. And if his cheeks really are that big (they very well might be, mine certainly aren't small), he will still be cute to me and I will love his sweet face forever.

Still, I am now begging God for an early delivery. Nate finishes the semester on May 11, so I'm shooting for any time that week. Hopefully that'll shave a pound off...

C'mon baby!