Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Trying not to stress

But I have nothing to cling to when the worry creeps in. The four weeks between each doctor's appointment feel endless. I am already yearning for the next one so I can hear my baby's heart beat and know that it (really hate using this word as a pronoun. Ready to trade it out with either a 'he' or a 'she'.) is alright. That's all I have to go on right now. I'm so anxious for the day that I can feel my baby move and kick inside of me so I can have reminders that all is well and it is safe.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Doc Appointment #2

My sister went with me today because, unfortunately, Justin is on his way home from North Carolina where he attended his grandfather's funeral yesterday. It was nice to have Becca there, though - a fun reversal from the many times I sat with her in the very same office as she prepared for the arrivals of her second and third beautiful baby girls.

In short, all went well. All signs go. But the moment when she searched for the heart beat was the most excruciating in recent memory. I bet you it didn't actually take her more than 90 seconds to find it - probably more likely 60 or less - but it felt like 60 minutes to me. I kept thinking, "Find the damn heart beat already!" And I'm fairly certain I held my breath. But then, finally, those tiny staccato beats filled the room and I let out a shaky breath. 157 beats per minute this time - down by about 10 beats per minute. Still completely normal and healthy, my doctor (actually Certified Nurse Midwife) said, but then added with a smile, "Old wives tale says slower heart rates are boys..."

When we saw the ultra sound for the first time, my husband, my mother and myself each said "Look at him!" I don't know why, it's just the first thing that popped out. Look at him. We'll see!