Motherhood Uncensored

Because the Only Interesting Thing Going On Happens to Be Inside My Uterus

I know, I know. Quit it already, right? It's turning into Tales from my Boring Uterus around here. I get that. But let me just say that what's going on in my uterus is waaaaaaaay more interesting than what's going on in other places on my body (ahem), so I'll just stick to the fun cute parts that don't involve a toilet or a large magnifying mirror. Eep.

See. This is much better. Here she is. Baby Sunny, as my daughter as appropriately named her.

And guess what? My quad screen came back perfectly fine. Yippeeee!

So don't be disappointed. Baby Sunny needs her fair share of air time or I'll really get hammered later in life. Plus, I'll be talking about the parts that involve large magnifying mirrors on Friday.

Until then, check out what my other little girl has been drawing lately.

Forget stage mom. I think I'm going to start pawning her artwork to help pay [our mortgage] for college.

Crap Shoot

There's nothing like a $3,000 doctor visit, two more ultrasounds, and a lecture on Down Syndrome to make you realize that this is all a crap shoot.

Pregnancy, having kids, shit, life in general is a gamble, except the odds are decidedly in our favor.

Since my labs have yet to surface and my husband's guard unit didn't put in his extension orders like they had promised (hence a temporary cut off of all insurance benefits), I was reluctant to even go to the appointment with the Maternal Fetal Specialists dun dun DUNNNNNNNNNN.

But the worry was overwhelming me, so we sucked it up along with the $3,000 bill (which shall be reimbursed by our insurance company, oh yes it will), and went with husband in tow.

And after getting weighed again, answering 4,000 questions with "no," and having both an ultrasound tech and a very unfriendly doctor who wouldn't stop jiggling which made me want to ask him if he had to "go potty," they told us what we found for free on the internet, but in a way that made it way more believable, mostly due to the feel of the blue gel on my belly and the stench of latex gloves.

The ultrasound shows an Echogenic Foci on her heart which is a weak and controversial marker for Down's Syndrome. It's not indicative of anything else and thankfully she has no other issues, problems, concerns, oddly shaped bones, weird heart defects, or anything else that could be considered a marker.

She does, however, hate the ultrasound machine with a passion and refuses to remain still for very long. To me, that says a lot more about her than the damn foci.

So, I'm waiting to find out the results of the Quad Screen, but whatever those results may be (although my poor weak psyche is hoping for extremely normal), we're just going to ride this out the old fashioned way and wait until she makes her appearance.

And return to being excited about our sweet little girl.

[Thank you thank you so much for your encouraging stories. I cannot tell you how much they have helped me and my husband during this crazy adventure].

Kids Always Have a Way of Cheering You Up

"Mommy, your new hair cut looks ridicillllllious!"

What a Difference a Day Makes

It was all vaginas and cupcakes around here until my midwife informed me this morning that my ultrasound showed an Echogenic Cardio Foci.

You say, wtf is that? And I say, I have no clue. And neither did my midwife.

I love midwives, but let them not be the ones to give you news regarding an Echogenic Cardio Foci that happens to be a teeny tiny even controversial marker (on its own, that is) for Down Syndrome because they will liken it to a hand crease and give you some bogus ratio and make you cry that heavy blubbering cry where you can't talk and you just want to run away but you're stuck in a fucking midwife's office.

Once I calmed down, let them take my blood for a Quad Screen, and scheduled an appointment for the super duper ultrasound, I was able to call my husband, talk to a few friends, some of whom have been in this same exact spot, and search around the internet.

And I feel better.

Apparently she also has an ovarian cyst too, you know, just make me worry even more, but I'm not supposed to worry about that because those are nothing. They just make your hormones really wacky (sweet, more excuses for my madness).  All this after the midwife informed me that their ultrasound machine isn't the greatest so there could have been other markers or actually, the marker could have not been there at all. But it was good enough to see a FUCKING CYST on her ovary.

Now I'm wondering if I'm having a girl. Did you hear, it's a GIRL! Yippppppppeeeeeeeee!

Truth be told, I've been ambivalent about this pregnancy. It's taken me until now to get excited. Partially due to my own anxiety about anything being wrong, but also because I'm living in a general state of overwhelm and I haven't had time to stop and say "WHOO! More kids!"

But yesterday, I got excited. I bought a pink onesie. I told the Gap Kids checkout lady (from whom I bought, not STOLE the onesie) that I'm having a girl. I don't want this to take away from that feeling.

So, if this trip takes us to Holland, we'll enjoy the detour. But I'm not going to feel bad for hoping, wishing, and hell, praying that every thing about this little girl is okay.

I Was Right.

I know it must have been incredibly difficult to sleep without knowing the gender of my baby. Or maybe that was just the burrito you decided to consume at 10pm, for which I cannot be held accountable.

In either case, I am pleased to announce that I was right. Completely and utterly right.

Oh wait. You didn't listen to my podcast? Okay, fine.

It's a GIRL! Weeeeehooooo!

Now while I go grab my husband's jaw off the ground, sniff out the remnants of puke courtesy of 2008: The Year of the Stomach Flu, and return to my midwife's office so she can officially meet me and my vagina, you should go check the links in my sidebar.