We rolled out of bed especially early this morning. Grumbly and snippy, it wasn't nearly as exciting leading up to the visit as it would have been had the appointment been at a more functional hour. Even at such an unfunctional hour, we knew how important this appointment was. We would know if we were having multiples, a guess how far along we probably are, and if the baby is even alive.
After spending about an hour going over family medical history, I got to pee in a cup and be a living pincushion. Have I mentioned that I don't like needles? It hurts, it's uncomfortable when it has to stay in my skin, and I get slightly weaker just seeing the blood pumping out of me into little vials. It isn't a pleasant experience, and I cringe at the thought that this is going to be a routine part of my visits to monitor my hormones and such. Joy....
After some more waiting and a quick exam, the moment of the morning had come. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the gestational sack, and then I saw the indistinct blob that could only be our baby. A tiny part on the blob was pulsing regularly, a tiny heartbeat. It took me a second for the reality of it to really hit me. That was a baby inside of me with a beating heart! It just made it that much more real.
We aren't as far along as the health department claimed. Baby measured about 6 and a half weeks instead of the 8 weeks the health department predicted. It puts the due date even closer to our birthdays at the end of January. It will certainly make remembering birthdays a lot easier in the years to come. Here's to hoping what the pregnancy boards call "a sticky baby", a baby that sticks and doesn't miscarriage. Can't really argue with a beating heart though...
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