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.