The hydrangeas were pink...

And the ultrasound tech said, "Girl."  I had my 18-week anatomy scan this morning, and in addition to finding out that the baby looks healthy and continues to measure with a due date of January 11 (a few days earlier than by my count), we found out that we will be getting a daughter and Oliver a sister.  I've been so looking forward to this day, to knowing whether it's a "she" or a "he."  I really was hoping for a girl when I got pregnant with Oliver and had a few moments of disappointment when all my friends found out they were having girls.  But I got over it in about 2 seconds because, hey, what's not fun about boys.  And he is fun.  So fun.  And I could not imagine a girl now.  This time, I was truly and honestly going to be excited either way.  Wes, my sister, and I were all imagining Oliver with a little brother.  Wes and I were imagining all the fun we've had with Oliver, his delight in life and great energy.  I knew I wanted a girl at some point though, so if it was now, then great.  Wes and I both went into the ultrasound thinking -- for no particular reason -- that it was a girl (I'm 2-2 now, having accurately predicted both genders).

And my reaction was similar this time to last time.  The tech did the whole scan -- checking for parts and vessels and taking measurements and then looked for the gender.  Her comments at first -- "I think I already know" and "If it's a boy, it's usually easy to tell at this point" made me think it was indeed a boy.  And I had a smile on my face, imagining this new little boy.  And then she said, "But you were right.  It's a girl."  And the smile stayed.  As I walked with Wes to the parking lot, I was surprised to feel a little disappointment that it wasn't a boy.  I think I said it when I found out with Oliver, too -- it's not that I don't want it to be a girl, but that means it can't be a boy.  (And no, I don't wish I were having fraternal boys/girl twins!  I'll leave that to friends.)  Wes is worried he won't know what to do with a girl.  But truly, as long as he wipes from front to back, he need not do anything differently with a girl than he does with his boy.  And maybe she will have Oliver's zest for life and great energy and some things all her own.  And in the meantime, I get to buy girl clothes.

No Child Left Behind, 2nd edition

I had my first appointment with the midwife yesterday.  I know most women see their prenatal provider more like 8-10 weeks into a pregnancy, but since I had an ultrasound at 8 weeks, and since I was already on the Prometrium, I decided to wait until I would be able to hear the heartbeat on the doppler to go in.  I was nervous but excited.  The first appointment is another step in making the pregnancy real, as is hearing the heartbeat.  I made an early appointment because I've had problems before having to wait a long time to be seen at this clinic.  I like the place, and they're the only midwives in Nashville (that I can find) that do hospital births.  And fortunately, they do theirs at Vanderbilt, since that's the cheapest place for us to deliver on Wes's healthcare coverage.

I did get seen very quickly.  They weighed me, took my vitals, and I chatted with the midwife a little bit.  And then came the part I was nervous about.  She got out the doppler, and I pulled up my shirt and laid back.  And then she turned on the doppler and started looking.  And kept looking.  She made a comment about the baby kicking a lot, moving around, but she couldn't find a heartbeat.  She looked for several minutes before she stopped, calmly, and said she was sending me for an ultrasound.  Wes wasn't with me at the appointment.  He was sleeping off a late shift, and I didn't think was that important for him to be there.  So I got the order from the front desk, got back in my car, and drove down the street to the ultrasound facility where I had my 8-week scans.  I alternated between preparing myself for a fetus that had not developed past the last scan (when it did have a heartbeat) and knowing that there was a chance the midwife just couldn't find the heartbeat.

The ultrasound office saw me quickly, too.  The technician asked if a Vanderbilt ultrasound student could come in, and I consented.  They need practice, I figured, even if the news was not good.  One day, they would have to give some woman bad news, too.  But after I put on the gown and laid down on the table, they quickly found the baby, measuring almost a week ahead of my dates, and with a nice, strong heartbeat between 155-170 bpm.  It was moving around a lot at some points, and the ultrasound tech said that can make it hard to get a heartbeat on the doppler, especially when it's still so small.  All I could think of was my first midwife's appointment when I was pregnant with Oliver, when the midwife couldn't see anything on the transabdominal ultrasound, and Wes and I sat for 45 minutes waiting for a transvaginal scan to show up that there was, in fact, a baby in there.  I don't know if it's because the tech knew I had been worried or because she was teaching or because she was just having fun, but she spent a while in there looking around, taking pictures, and talking to me about what she saw.  The baby looked great and finally looked like an actual baby.

I had to go back to the midwife's office afterwards.  I waited for a long time for them to get the ultrasound report, but they finally took me back.  I told the midwife what I knew, which she was happy to hear, and I asked several more questions I had about the practice and prenatal care.  The whole thing took almost three hours, and I ended up missing my class because of it (the only class I missed during my entire master's program!).  I thought I would go back at 16 weeks, since I was seen every 4 weeks at my former clinic, but she said I could wait until 18 weeks and see her after the anatomy scan.  Her office scheduled it on my way out, so on August 12 we'll hopefully know the gender (and that everything looks okay), and I'll see the midwife the next day.

I hate the worry that I had for those 45 minutes or so, but if the worst my babies do in utero is hide from the ultrasound and doppler wands, that's fine by me.  I'm praying that the next appointment will be somewhat less exciting.

Hey, good lookin'

Last Tuesday was our early ultrasound for the study I’m in.  This ultrasound was my main reason for participating in the study, since my midwife’s office doesn’t do them routinely.  Wes and I both like to see the baby early, to know there’s just one and to see that it is developing normally and in the right place.  I scheduled the ultrasound this time for as close to 8 weeks as they would let me, knowing we should be able to see a heartbeat by then and such. 

I was really nervous the night before and could hardly sleep.  I couldn’t even look at the screen until the tech had pointed out the gestational sac, the fetal poles, and the heartbeat (170bpm!).  I looked then, and suddenly Wes and I went from being very nervous to being very excited. 

I still can’t quite grasp the fact that we’re going to have a baby – another baby – in January, but the excitement is growing and it’s hard to ignore that my belly is, too. 

Oliver is as captivated as ever by babies, but as my mom and sister noticed, it’s usually the baby he sees in doorknobs and spoons and some pictures on the wall.  Funny that he should start to call himself this just as it’s becoming so very obvious that he is no longer one.  

Dear Husband, Part 45

When we left the ultrasound last Tuesday, Wes said, “He’s a cute little bugger isn’t he.  Did you see him waving at us?”

Here s/he is

The top photo shows the head and spine pretty clearly. The fetus is upside down inside me if that helps. The bottom one looks at first like a head with eye socket, but they "eye" is actually the heart beating away.

Dear Husband Part 5 -- Rated PG-13 for Language

Wes’s comment on getting an ultrasound: “I just want to see the little bastard.” He meant it in a good way, honest.