Size matters. Forget what you've heard... size does matter. I did not fully realize this until Liam was born. Actually, I first realized it when I was pregnant. Suddenly, everything was about size. We began to track the size of the fetus on various websites. Our favorite was the one that compared the growing life inside of me to different kinds of foods- you know, this week it's the size of a clementine, this week the size of a beet, and so on. Sometimes it threw in the occasional candy reference as well. I remember feeling very nauseous during the Twix week.
And of course, size mattered every month and eventually every week that they weighed me. But we don't need to go into that. At least not in public- ask me in private and I will share the scary numbers with you.
Size mattered during the Level 2 sonogram when they measured the back of Liam's neck for signs of Down's Syndrome, when they predicted him to be around 8 pounds (yeah, right), and when they told us that it looked like he had cute, big feet. :)
And then he was here, all 9 pounds of him (well, 8 lbs, 15.9 oz, but he took a big poop right before, so they called it an even 9), size mattered again. He lost 9% of his body weight in the hospital (the pediatrician said she didn't worry until it was 10%), and so since then we have been cheering every ounce.
So now our big guy, at 6 weeks old today, weighed in at 9 pounds 13 1/2 ounces. And that last 1/2 ounce counts... it's just like how my mom Patty always describes her own height as not 5 feet, but rather 5 feet 1/2 inch. I used to laugh at her for it, but I totally get it now. Size matters.
Tiny toes, tiny nose, tiny body. But big, big love. Lesson well learned.
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