Ultrasound Joy

So I already said a little, and you can see the pictures, but I had a little more I wanted to get off my belly about today.

At my Dr. appointment two weeks ago, I was told that I was measuring behind. Very behind. An ultrasound was immediately ordered and my NP was content to assure me that my dates were just off. But for there to be more than a two-week disparity in my dates was impossible. Plainly, it would mean that I got a positive test the day I conceived, not to mention some pretty hearty little swimmers. Pretty much everyone I shared this concern with asked why I didn't argue that point. Well, see, I had Dash with me because I thought it was going to be a here's-your-cup-here's-your-weight-out-the-door visit. I didn't realize that they now do mandatory pap-smears on the first OB visit. I also didn't realize that taking my clothes of and putting my feet in stirrups was going to send Dash into orbit. However, I do now realize that - in hindsight - having to endure a pap and an internal exam while playing patty cake with the 15 month-old who is straddling your chest is pretty funny.

As you can guess, I was just in a hurry to get out of there.

But then, I had to think about the possibilities. And oh my readers, the internet is not your friend on such a mission. Not to mention that there are too many women in the"August 2009 Expecting Club" on iVillage (keep your comments to yourself) who have lost their pending deliveries recently. Yes, it's more likely that I would have had some indication that something was amiss, but it does happen silently as well. And despite my "urgent" stamp on my form, I still had to wait two weeks for the big day. Which is probably why this blog has been on the quiet side because that was a lot for me to sit on. And also, I'm a pessimist. So I'd rather think about fetal demise and be pleasantly surprised than stick my head in the proverbial sand and hope for the best.

But all that just made today that much sweeter.

I have vivid memories of enjoying my boys first swirls and kicks, but not so much of their ultrasounds. Especially ones that involved, well, the you-know-what camera. But that changed today. First of all I have to say that while I do like my NP and most of the Dr.'s, the nurses and techs are doofuses. The lady who read my pregnancy test results might as well have told me I had leprosy. For real. And the chick who did my last ultrasound with Dash was SO mean and wouldn't even let Brooks come in the room until I threw a fit. But this woman today? Pure awesome. She was CHIPPER as she brought us back a few minutes EARLY. Then she laughed at the joy on my face when she told me this was a happy abdominal ultrasound. And during? She assured us every few minutes that Snoopy was the cutest baby she'd ever seen. I mean, sure she probably tells everyone that, but this time it also happened to be true. And to see that little baby all moving and swatting and kicking? Amazing.

And all of a sudden, it became smack-you-in-the-face-real. In a few months I will have three children! Heaven help me...

Oh and I would be remiss if I didn't note my love and appreciation for Monika and Kindra who watched the gruesome twosome for us so that Brooks could join in the fun. You ladies are my heroes.