The 12 Week Sigh of Relief

***WARNING – I am sharing my joy today by including ultrasound photos at the end of this post.  I hope this is not hurtful to any of my readers and encourage you not to scroll down the page if you want to avoid seeing the pictures.***

Yesterday was my 12 week ultrasound/nuchal translucency scan.  I had hoped that the baby would be active so that The Prince could see it do its little dance.  I should have been careful what I wished for.  The baby was so uncooperative.  The ultrasound tech got a little frustrated (although she was very nice about it) because the baby kept doing barrel rolls, making it impossible for her to get the measurements she needed.  When it did stop rolling, it would put its arms up over its face and head, like it was hiding from the “camera” (we have some great “pictures” of that).  The baby also would bend its little legs and then kick as hard as it could so that its head hit the other side of the uterus and it bounced back.  The baby seemed to be having great fun for awhile.  Then, it yawned (or at least opened its mouth really wide) a few times and settled down enough for the tech to get the measurements she needed (45 minutes after we had started).  We got some great 4D pictures and a CD with parts of the ultrasound on it.  I begged the tech to make an educated guess about the gender, but she said the baby was way too active to get a good look at the relevant area.  However, she jokingly guessed that it must be a boy, given the baby’s “inside” temperament and activity level.

The Prince didn’t react quite as dramatically as I had hoped.  There were no tears or almost tears.  There was a little nervous laughing by him at the beginning of the scan, and he was glued to the television screen.  But the excitement he had shown during the other ultrasounds was missing.  Each time I see our baby it is such a miracle to me, it is hard for me to understand why he isn’t in total awe as well.  I think he’s settled into the idea of the pregnancy and has become, for lack of a better word, complacent.  The work on the nursery has halted, even though The Prince isn’t working his second job for the next 6 weeks.  When I talk about the baby or the pregnancy, he quickly changes the topic or watches television while “talking” to me.  I am hoping that he is just processing the pregnancy at a different pace from me.  I’m trying to be understanding and patient, but the pregnancy hormones aren’t helping me out with that.

The nurse practitioner/midwife assured me that the scan looked great.  I won’t get the results of the genetic screening (blood work) until 17 weeks.  That seems like a long time to wait but, I have to say, the reassurance of yesterday’s scan has made me feel  like I can breathe out the breath I’ve been holding in for months.  On my way home from yesterday’s appointment, I let out a sigh and felt like a 20 pound weight was lifted off of my chest.  I am well aware that there are still many things that can go wrong.  But I now have a reason to believe that they aren’t going to.

The only way I could keep the ultrasound photo from showing up with my post abstract was to put another picture in front of it.  So, disregard this photo.

Baby Hamish needs a bigger "apartment."

Camera Shy