February 17, 2011

Tomorrow, Tomorrow...

You're only a day away!

Ok, so it's a bit corny but it's how I feel today because tomorrow we'll go to my perinatologist and see our first 3D images of the baby. We've already had SEVERAL 2D ultrasounds (the only benefit of being labeled "high risk"). But tomorrow, we fully expect to walk away knowing the gender and it's so exciting. With our son the very first 3D image we saw was him "in all his glory." We moved on and got to see some amazing video  of him actually sucking his thumb...something he unfortunately still does. It's a work in progress.

I have a few friends who for various reasons have opted not to find out the gender and although I think that's awesome, I can't do it. At least not with this pregnancy because Joshua's deploying. He's going to miss the birth (I'm not quite ready to blog about that yet) and if it's a girl...oh the plans I have...much of which, Joshua will be required to do in the minuscule time he has before he leaves.

Back to more pleasant things: The first time I had to go to the perinatologist, I was so intimidated because he's that guy...the guy who takes care of the highest of high risks. I'm blessed that I expect to only see him a few times during my pregnancy and otherwise I'm able to see my "normal" OB. The office waiting room is different than any other I've been in. OB's are usually happy and bouncy rooms, my cardiologist's waiting rooms have generally been professional but sober but the perinatologist is some sort of weird mix of the two atmospheres. The wait times can exceed the appointment by hours because even with multiple doctors on hand, they have emergencies and you just wait. Nobody complains because everyone there is there for the same reason...something is wrong and they have to fight to have children. I'll never forget my first visit...although there's one aspect I wish I could. I wore a shirt which ended up making me feel worse than I have ever felt...like bottom of the barrel, scum of the Earth, bad just really, really bad. I wore a maternity shirt, surrounded by high risk pregnant women, many of whom have suffered multiple miscarriages and are at that office hoping desperately not to have another. The shirt read: I Can Grow People. It's a super cute maternity shirt from my favorite maternity boutique but it was the worst thing I could have possibly worn in that office. I spent the two hours waiting to be seen with my arms crossed high above my chest, hoping and praying that the wrong woman wouldn't read it and have her heart broken into a million pieces.

So, tomorrow, I will be wearing a much more boring, plain t-shirt and jeans and I'll get to see my little peanut. Eeek!