one, one, one

We are home from San Antonio. In brief form, here are the results. More to come tomorrow.

*  All is well. Thank you, God; all is well.
*  There is one baby.
*  He or she is very cute, at least in the one head he has - and two arms.
*  The technician didn't show us the legs, at the risk of us sighting the gender. We're a bit sad about that now, just because, as long as we were looking, it would've been nice to see the whole of the baby's shape. We almost waffled on the gender secrecy, right there in the exam room. It was so tempting! Ultrasounds are pretty neat.
*  Baby's organs are healthy. The heart beats and beats, beautifully.
*  I cannot believe how cool the spine and ribs are. Who told those to form so uniformly? How is my body doing this??
*  Growth is on target. Weight appears to be one pound and one ounce.
*  If they hadn't otherwise been told how far along I was, they'd put my due date at May 31, based on the baby's development. This is one day earlier than the midwives put it. So, basically, the same.
*  The placenta is in a good place; no previa. 
*  I am one relieved mama, and Jason, one relieved papa. Like the cutest papa-to-be, he watched the DVD several times as soon as we got home, analyzing it for facial structure and eyelashes, calling us over to see what he'd found.


Friends, thank you for your comments of support! I feel the prayers. I was prepared for a rocky journey, and it is such a relief knowing that that's not my path to walk this time, for now anyway. I can only fight the battles, make the choices, and live the life that's right in front of me. At least, it makes for a lot less anxiety that way. But now what will I worry about, since this baby's development seems to be on track?! I'm open for suggestions. Just kidding; I'll think of something on my own in no time, or else I'll turn on the news for ideas.

But truly, thank you for reading and thank you for your presence.

ultrasound tomorrow

After I put Zoralee to bed, I found myself hemming and hawing around the house and distracting Jason from his reading with random tidbits of conversation. I was on my way to bed, but came back to ask Jason if we should find out what the sex is if it turns out to actually be two babies. We decided probably not. If a surprise is a surprise, why aren't two surprises two surprises? Then I said that if we find out something's wrong with the baby, like seriously wrong, I want to know the sex. Jason asked why. I wasn't sure. As I'm analyzing now, do I think a less than perfect baby isn't worth being surprised over? No, I don't think so. I would just want to know the most I could about the little being I was praying and weeping for and wondering about. The phrase that's running through my mind, in relation to receiving bad news is, "From now on, everything's different." And I'm readying myself to have that be the title of my next blog post.

So yeah, I realized tonight that I am really nervous about this ultrasound. I guess it's because the only ultrasound experience I've ever had showed our miscarried baby. I know this one is doing fine, generically, because I can feel the little bugger moving around. And my belly is poking out. And I'm still pregnant. Stuff like that. But what if they say, "Look! Twins! Oh, nope; it's just one baby.....with two heads." I don't know what the statistical chances of that are - I'm guessing fairly low - but what if? Is this something I should be aware of the entire second half of the baby's time inside me?

As crazy as this may sound to everyone who has had ultrasounds for their pregnancies, I liked not knowing the first thing about Zoralee. Of course, the whole time, I was resigned to idea of losing the pregnancy, but that's just because I'm a pessimist; I wasn't necessarily agitated about it, and I had no specific knowledge to hang my fears on. But this pregnancy - geez, I'm freaking myself right on out. If my baby doesn't have problems yet, I may just will them into its life by the power of suggestion, poor thing.


I'm also afraid they're going to say I have placenta previa, or any other number of potential problems. Wouldn't I like to know?, you may ask. Nope! Because from what I read, many cases of placenta previa work themselves out by the time of delivery. And I don't want to worry about it unnecessarily, which I will do if I know about it, sure as the sun doth shine. If there is a problem, it's better to know now and monitor it than to be surprised in labor, especially a home birth. Cognitively, I know that.

But I am feeling like a real ostrich-with-her-head-in-the-sand kind of girl right now. And I'm nervous and pouty about this ultrasound tomorrow.