It went well. Zero screaming fits, we moved fast. I like the pictures, despite my shocking lack of color, but the shadows around and under our faces drive me crazy. I think the sun was too high and bright. We might need to try it all again on a cloudy day? I don't know, I just take a million pictures and pray. Matt is rolling his terrible eyes and gnashing his terrible teeth right now at the thought of a repeat performance.
I love them all, but this might be my favorite (except for the darn shadow) .
I had a follow-up ultrasound on Tuesday and the cord is not around our little one's neck any longer. What a relief, I hadn't realized how much I'd worried about it until she said it wasn't a problem. No extra stress tests, no more ultrasounds, just seven (or less? please?) quiet weeks and we meet our little micro brew or our little boy.
(I absolutely loved the comments and tweets trying to guess our beer-based girl's name. One was better than the next, but Michelobia, courtesy of Marinka is my favorite so far. No one has guessed it yet. It's actually a fairly common, non-exciting name, based on a Seattle micro brew.)
Our lovely midwife smiled and told me everything looked great and she'd see me in two weeks and my wasn't this a big, healthy baby.
"Big?" I asked innocently. "How do you know he's big?" (No, that's not a slip I always call babies 'he' because that's all I've birthed, meanwhile the ultrasound technician said 'she' because she has a girl. It's a tricky, two-possibility world.)
"He's measuring five pounds already."
"Well, that's just, huh, great?"
"We know you can deliver a nine pound baby," she smiled reassuringly, "so I'm not too worried about it."
Um, yes, we know I can, but that doesn't mean my vagina wouldn't prefer a six or seven pounder. Every pound counts, you know. Or, so my vagina told my brain whilst in the midst of yielding to a nine pound baby. At least that was my brain's translation. My vagina actually said "AHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!" over and over for three hours.
"You probably ought to watch your sugar intake really closely. I recommend you focus on protein and vegetables," she added.
There might have been a little sob in my voice when I said weakly, "okay." I've already reduced myself to one grande chai tea latte a week. What else is there?
I think she may want me to give up ice cream. Gulp.
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Ten points in this one - anyone know the folk song from the title for five or the famous children's book I referenced?
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