After obsessing about my ultrasound for a couple weeks, today was finally the day. The day I would find out if my baby was okay. The day we’d confirm that there was only one baby in there. The day we’d find out if we’re having another daughter or a son.
Chris picked me up after his morning class and we headed to the clinic. After checking in, we waited less than 5 minutes for my name to be called. A short, youngish woman who was both friendly and fast-paced led us to a darkened room. I struggled to keep up with her. When we got settled, she promptly started the procedure. Baby was on the screen as soon as the wand hit my belly. And man was that baby moving! Of course I realize that I am pregnant and that there’s a baby in my belly, but there’s something about seeing that baby up on the screen that makes it seem so much more personal and real. I could feel my priorities shifting as I watched the spine and head dance around the screen. Our baby was there. Waving at us and kicking around. Looking exactly the way a baby is supposed to look at 20 weeks. All the bones and organs were in the right place and fused correctly. The heartbeat was lub-dubbing away at 129 beats per minute. Measurements predicted a current weight of 14 ounces. It was profound. I'm actually growing a person. Right now.
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| A first look at Baby |
About twenty minutes into the ultrasound, and after a potty break for me, the technician had a clear shot of Baby’s genital region. She pointed out his scrotum and penis. That’s how she told us we’re having a boy. (We’re having a boy!) In that first moment, I was filled with elation. I wanted a boy! But in the next moment, I was sad. I wanted another Daughter, too. I wanted both. Pregnancy hormones aren’t supposed to make sense. Although, Chris says he felt the same thing I did. He wanted a boy and a girl, too. Now that we've had some time to soak it in, we are both ridiculously happy about the healthy baby boy that we’ve made.
When I was pregnant with Daughter, we decided not to find out her gender until I delivered. I found out she was a girl when I was strapped down to the operating table. This time, I wanted it to be different. I’m SO glad we decided to find out. I don’t regret this decision in the least. I already feel more closely bonded with my lil guy. I suspected he was a he from the beginning. Although in my obsessing the last few weeks, my intuition was getting fuzzy. I'm glad intuition prevailed. We told Daughter the exciting news after school today and she’s excited to have a little brother. She’s planning on teaching him how to play . . . when he gets a little bigger, she’ll tell you.
There was one minor complication that came up on the scan. Turns out my placenta is growing right over my cervix, which means the exit is blocked. It’s called placenta previa. For baby, it doesn’t matter in the least. For me, it means I’ll have a few extra scans in the coming weeks to see if the placenta migrates up. If it doesn’t, I'll have a mandatory C-section. What’s weird is that I didn’t freak out about that. As much as I want a VBAC and to hold baby right after he is born, I felt a little relief about a possible required C-section. Being able to schedule the day that baby is born sounded kind of nice. Also, not having to worry about my uterus rupturing, well, that doesn’t sound so bad either. And going without tearing or incontinence. These all sound like good, good things to me. I know I have the option of scheduling a section even if my placenta does decide to move out of the way. I didn’t realize how much I wouldn’t mind one, though, until today. I’m curious if these feelings will stick with me as my emotions continue to ebb and flow. I know that Baby will likely not end up in NICU if we plan on a section from the beginning, instead of having one after 2 days of labor like the last time. And if Baby is not in NICU, that means Baby can be with me. (I think. I need to find out more about that.)
I went running with my club tonight and started sharing news of my baby’s gender. Everyone is very excited for me and my growing family. I even saw Victor (of Whistlestop fame) who showed up for the first time in a while. He told me I’ve grown a lot since I’ve seen him last . . . which was St. Patty’s day, two and a half weeks ago. I agreed. I’ve been growing like a weed lately. I ran almost 5 miles with a gal who’s running a marathon out east this weekend. It was a great little run. The weather must have been perfect because I don’t remember being hot or cold.
Afterwards, though, I didn’t feel too great. When I got home, my belly felt tight. I’ve had this happen after a few runs. I’m not sure what it is. I asked Google and it mentioned something about Braxton-Hicks. The first time it happened, I did think it was a contraction because my belly felt hard. Contractions don’t seem right to me, though. It’s not an on and off kind of thing, but a constant tightness. And it’s always gone by the next day. I wonder if it’s my ab muscles getting sore from trying to keep my bouncing belly in place. Whatever it is, I’m not a fan. But I’m not ready to stop running yet.
In summary, a Big Day: We’re having a boy. My placenta is too low. My belly hurts. I’m still running.
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