I forgot to pack underwear while staying with my parents, so I free-styled to the first store we could find. I ran in and purchased a gloriously-cheap, but terribly-fitting 6-pack of cotton bikini underwear. (I remembered, while I slid them over my hips on the way to our destination, why I have worn thongs for the last four years or so. Bikinis do not fit over my butt cheeks, nor do they cover my butt crack. Thongs are not supposed to do either. With thongs, your butt is supposed to hang out. Your crack is not supposed to be covered. I do not have to wonder if the exposure is because of my rapidly growing butt. Nope, the process of hanging-out can all be blamed on the thong.)
I was on the way to my 21 week ultrasound, which is why the underwear were a necessity.
I was nervous. Sweaty nervous. And shaky.
I laid down on the ultrasound table, and the woman began her small talk.
Part of ultrasound training should include the fact that expecting moms do NOT want to talk about the weather, about the drive there, or about your empty bladder, despite the massive amount of water you drank on the way there. (I guess I was supposed to drink the water an hour before the appointment; not minutes before. When have I ever followed any rule completely?)
While K was polite and attempted to make small talk (which he doesn't feel the need to do in most other social situations), I was completely quiet, except maybe to grunt in frustration at the fact that she wasn't telling me about....ahem, why were we there again....oh, right! THE BABY!
She must have caught the hint, (maybe it was my unwillingness to take my eyes of the screen) because she began, finally, with, "I am checking the heart, now the stomach, now the bladder...."
All the time she did the exam, she exclaimed, "Beautiful! Oh, just beautiful!"
Until she got to the brain:
"Now, I'm going to check the brain....." (Silence, silence, silence). "These are the two sides."
(Silence, silence, silence for eternity). She cleared her throat, and said, "Ok, now the arms and legs. Beautiful! Perfect!"
I interrupted her praise of the arms and legs to say, "Um, is the brain ok?"
Uh-huh....(pause, pause)...How old are you?"
"32."
"Ok."
So, it was over. I was freaked out. I was sweatier than ever. What was THAT?! Everything but the brain got close-to-a-standing-ovation? The brain got a throat-clearing and a hesitant "Uh-huh"?!
I knew it. There was something wrong with the baby.
We walked to the doctor's office next door for my monthly appointment. I waited for him to tell me the news.
He didn't.
He said everything looked good.
It took me about 10 minutes, approximately the whole time of the exam, to finally believe him.
I kept waiting for him to tell me the real news. I kept waiting for him to tell me we needed a follow-up appointment, just to "check on some possible issues".
Nothing. Just a question about getting my tubes tied, and a shoving of me out the door. Huh.
So, I guess, despite my brain's willingness to fully believe it, everything seems ok thus far. Woohoo! We are thankful. Really thankful.
And no, we didn't find out the gender. I tried to get her to whisper it to me on the sly, but K was too quick. He knows me too well. So, we will not know the gender until just a little bit sooner than all of you.
C-section scheduled for August 11. At 37 weeks. That is 16 weeks away, to be exact.
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