Among everything else… to add yesterday to the mix was just a bit much.
 
I went to the doctor (referred by my midwife) and for a little fun for us to start off, he wanted to hear the heartbeat of our sweet little baby.
 
He tried. And tried. And tried.
 
Oh my goodness, that is a horrible feeling.
All I could think about was the countless women who have gone before me and have strained their ear desperately for that little rapid gallop.
All I could thing of was my dear friend who just a couple months ago strained her ear to no avail…

 It’s hard not to remember that first baby we lost. It’s hard not to think of the odds… two out of FIVE. We women should talk about this more… instead we keep our pregnancies private until the safe “12 week mark” — but then when you loose one before that point you have those sad conversations“We were going to… but now we aren‘t.”… I remember that. I know everyone chooses their announcement time for their own reasons. I can never wait much past 7 weeks. I still think that the “miscarried Momma” should be treated with so much love and tenderness… never expected to be “over it” in just a couple weeks.
 

Instead of continuing with the reason we were there the doctor sent us to lunch ’til the ultrasound tech could arrive. My mom had come to be with us/help with the kids and it’s a good thing because Joel had to leave for work.
 
Sickening. To kiss hubby goodbye knowing you might have to share the saddest of news with him over the phone in just a couple hours.
 
I was on autopilot. Really, I was ready for the news. Between the low progesterone numbers (which have gone up from 14 to 20.5… but still) and with how good I have been feeling lately. This by far has been the easiest pregnancy. Things have really calmed down – I don’t feel great, but I don’t feel like I am dying either! And trust me — I equate feeling like total sh– with a healthy pregnancy. That’s just how it goes for me. Every time I feel good I think, “Are you OK down there little one???”
Mom took us out for lunch to my favorite little Mexican hole in the wall.
 
About two hours later I was being welcomed into the little room (alone) by the kindest of techs. Within SECONDS she had me on that table and had found that little crazy gallop I was so desperate to hear.
 
I reached over and grabbed her hand and cried. “Thank you Jesus. Thank you Jesus.” I said.
 
She said, “I am so glad to hear you say that, I read your paperwork before you came in and I said a prayer for you.”

 

Here’s our little one.
Oh-my-goodness.
 
It’s amazing every time.