We had our second ultrasound with the maternal and fetal specialist last week. This picture of a tiny little nose and sweet baby lips is proof. This adorable picture is also proof of so much more for me.
Long story short: one of the brain ventricles is still measuring tenths of a millimeter outside the “normal” range. The doctor asked me to come back in four weeks. I said “No.” She didn’t seem supportive of that idea. I recommended eight weeks based on the fact (which the doctor confirmed) that there is nothing we can do to fix any potential problems prior to labor and delivery. So, in my mind, we should wait until closer to “go time” to do another ultrasound. At 36 weeks, we can make a decision about whether to change where we deliver the baby, if I need to be induced, etc. Otherwise, I will come in at 32 weeks and you will then ask me to come in AGAIN…I can feel it.
And these appointments are doing nothing for us. They offer no real answers, no formal diagnoses, and pull us away from our other obligations. They consistently run late and the waiting room looks like a slightly renovated dungeon. This appointment doesn’t include that fact that I now have to see my OB/GYN every other week as part of my regularly scheduled appointments (common practice once you get to 28 weeks). I am also trying to save up PTO for maternity leave. The saving of PTO is getting difficult when I am seeing the doctor left and right.
So…I said I would not come in at 32 weeks. She asked for a compromise at 34 weeks. I scheduled my appointment at 35 weeks. That is the most compromise I have in me right now.
Have you ever had an experience where the world seems chaotic and confusing, but you still have peace in your heart? That is where I am right now. The doctors tell me not to worry but continue to make me show up for stressful appointments. I can hear the concern in the grandparents’ voices every time we tell them that nothing is officially wrong but we have to go back for another appointment. Friends ask follow-up questions as they try to gauge my stress level. I know what the doctors are saying. I know what Google says. Here is what I am saying.
Baby Jefferson is already such an active baby!! He punches and kicks throughout the day and really puts on a show in the evening when I stretch out and give him space to roll around. He has the most perfect little nose, and I will rub noses with him constantly. He is growing as he should and his ultrasound pictures show a strong heart, skinny legs (like his Daddy), and ten tiny toes and fingers. When I watch my belly move at night, I am overcome with this feeling that everything is fine. Jefferson is going to be a healthy, happy, and well loved baby boy. His normal is different than the “normal” range. His normal is tenths of a millimeter larger. I don’t need another ultrasound to tell me any of this. I feel it…I know it. I can’t explain where this feeling comes from but it is coming on strong.
So, for now, I am going to start prepping the nursery. I am going to nest and reorganize all of the closets in the house. I am going to take naps and make Bradley feel my bump for the nightly ninja show. I am going to prop my cankles up in the evening and force the dogs to cuddle me. I am going to ride this wave of peace and trust myself above the other noise and distractions.
Have you ever felt comfort despite what is happening around you?