Give Me a Ping Vasily, One Ping Only
Today we go for our count-the-body-parts ultrasound. (For those of you attempting to determine my due date from this information, it may be (un)helpful to know that we're not getting the ultrasound at the traditional milestone.) I am nervous, for some reason—perhaps because the last time I was in that ultrasound room was for an amnio, which was fairly stressful. Intellectually I know that this procedure's going to be painless, but I can't get over the jitters. Maybe it's just excitement.
We already know the gender of our child-to-be, but I'm still absolutely on-the-edge-of-my-seat excited about seeing him again. I went through total baby withdrawal after the amnio; I wished I could have watched a tape of that session over and over again, just to see the giant head, the rounded belly, the little legs crossed at the ankles. It was captivating... mesmerizing... overwhelming. We're bringing a videotape this time just in case.
In addition to just seeing the baby and all his wonderful body parts, I'm also curious to see how he's positioned, because I've been feeling him kicking for quite a while. (I felt the first flutters of movement really early for a first-time pregnancy, and within a week or two of that, I was feeling actual jabs.) What I won't see (unless some weird miracle occurs) is *two* babies. My mom keeps asking if I'm certain I'm not carrying twins, because I'm already as big as she ever got with her two pregnancies. Having seen the initial date-the-pregnancy ultrasound, and having specifically asked the technician at the amnio whether there was one baby or two and gotten a definitive answer of one, I'm pretty sure I can say with confidence that I just have a big belly, not two babies in there.