This morning was the first chance to receive more affirmation that things were indeed going as planned inside my body. Our appointment was at 9am, and by 9:11am, we were sitting in the dimly lit (mood lighting?) room. Me, pantsless on the table, observing the halloween footies on the stirrups. Her, standing, folding my pants and boxers. Both of us staring at the ultrasound machine, and giggling at the well-lubed vaginal ultrasound probe, of which we nicknamed, the vagwand.
Here is where dreams are made or shattered, we thought out loud. We quickly came up with a list of things that would make us feel better if we were in the shattered category: beer and more roller coasters. Phew, now we we’re really ready.
The Dr. (bowtie and all) came in with the lady we simply refer to as my “feminine sensibilities.” He was the same Dr. who did the procedure itself a little over a month ago. He seemed proud to see us back, and anxious to see how things were going. Laid-back, lubed-up, probe-probe-probe and I’m not sure what the exact sentence was, but it involved the words yolk sac and heartbeat. He probed some more (hellloooo Dr.) and zoomed in a little, and there it was, the heartbeat beating. “Everything looks normal,” he said. I love normal. I have no intention of being extraordinary here – normal is exactly what I’m going for, thank you very much.
He printed out a screen shot of our normal baby, and left us (well, me) to get dressed. Squish squish squish, boxers (yellow and striped, seemed hopeful), pants, socks, shoes, and out the door to his office where he graduated us from the land of Reproductive Endocrinology. He seemed genuinely happy, in a “this-is-why-I-do-what-I-do” sort of way. Now we’re onto making our first OBGYN appointment – it’s a little hard to believe, but also, very awesome.
In the meantime, I will continue to have my morning snack of saltines in the bed (that’s some serious sexy right there), and sport my new DD bra (hi, former C cups). Hot damn.