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!
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