Happy! Healthy!

This past Wednesday was my long awaited Dr's appointment.  I had a long night of no sleep the night before, because I was just nervous to hear if the baby was ok.  I kept thinking to myself which gender would I really like deep down & I honestly couldn't come up with one or the other.  

A girl would bring a new challenge.  I would have to get used to doing hair pretty, the art of matching hair accessories & cute colored shoes, and playing with things like tea sets & Barbies.  Since my parents reassured me many-a-times that I was the sweetest, quiet little girl, I thought God might gift me one with the same temperament.  It would really only be fair, since C was not-the-easiest of babes.  I then grew anxiety.  Lots of anxiety.  I would have to teach a girl to overcome the pressures to look perfect.  I would have to decide what shorts were too short for her, or when she could shave her legs, or when she could go out with a boy without parental supervision.  I then feared that if one day a boy broke her heart, I would very well kill him.  Literally kill him.

Then my mind started imaging our baby being a boy.  I had no fears.  Not one.  Well except that this boy be really petite--getting my tiny hands or something-- & getting picked on, since his big brother is a giant.  Not sure that even qualifies as a real fear.  I was confident I could raise another boy.  I love the bond boys have with their Mamas.  I saw Connor taking his little brother under his wing & teaching him everything he knows about swimming, Star Wars, and CandyLand. I imagined the baby wearing Connor's hand-me-downs & it got me excited.  We got thrown a few curveballs when Connor was a baby, so I feel like I get a chance to relive having a sweet baby boy with no speed bumps along the way (when I say speed bumps...they were more like massive mountains, but you get the idea).  I felt happy knowing that Connor will have a brother to bond with, horse play with, and share things with.  I knew Matt would enjoy having another boy in the house to watch 49ers football with and to teach about soccer.  I knew the chances of my kids having a broken bone would be higher with two boys, as well as having to deal with teaching the boys how to treat girls, not to drive with their car stereos too loud in high school, and that 'tooting' around girls is rude.

Matt & I went into my ultrasound appointment that morning.  Matt carried himself like it was just a regular appointment, but I was dying inside with nervousness.  What if there was something wrong with the heart? The brain? The spine?  What if there was a problem with the bloodflow through the umbilical cord?  The unknown was killing me.  When the tech began my ultrasound, I quickly & kindly asked her how long she'd been at her profession.  When she said 12 years, I felt a little better knowing her measurements might be a little more precise.  I knew she couldn't interpret any of the measurements/findings, but I did my best to read her facial expressions.  She didn't appear to be concerned.  Slight relief.  I made sure all the fingers & toes were accounted for from the blurry image.  A few tears ran down the side of my face-- the whole idea of us staring up at our baby inside me was incredible.  I could see Matt's face just looking amazed.  When the tech asked if we wanted to know the gender, we agreed.  She took pictures from a few angles & confirmed 'he' had 'boy parts.'  As she typed, "ITS A BOY," across the ultrasound monitor, I remember the same feeling I had when I heard Connor was a boy.  It didn't seem real.  Like in the very moment, it wasn't sinking in that I really know now.  We finished up with the tech & went back out to the waiting room to wait to see the Dr.  As Matt & I sat and I picked up my phone to call my Mom first, it came over me.  It sunk in.  I bawled out of no where.  The tears wouldn't stop.  Matt was worried I was upset, but I reassured him I was just excited & it was just hitting me.  My beautiful pregnancy hormones just made my happy cry more like a giant tear-fest.  Since I couldn't get ahold of myself to call my Mom, I texted her.  Even through texting, just reading out loud to myself that "Connor will be so excited to have a brother," made me blubber.  Poor Matt!  I've cried so much this pregnancy & he just looks at me (and usually laughs since he knows I have no control!).  

The medical assistant called me back shortly after.  I felt the need to explain to everyone that I was crying happy tears.  Matt was worried people would think he did something to me to make me cry!  Before we knew it, we were in front of the Dr. & he interpreted the ultrasound images, saying that all looks great and as it should be!  It was the news I'd been praying for.  Relieved was an understatement.  The only thing the Dr. noted was that my placenta is very low.  He said 9 times out of 10, as the baby grows, the placenta will move upward with the baby.  He said they will keep an eye on it, because if 

my placenta remains low--we will need to resort to a C-section at delivery (since if I dilate for a regular delivery, it will actually tear away at my placenta).  He noted that if I begin to bleed at all, to come in right away.  The news caught my attention, but still didn't worry me too much.  Matt was more concerned than I was.  I was still riding high on the news that our baby boy looked as he should.

So since Wednesday, I've rummaged through Connor's baby clothes (that I stocked away in two giant Rubbermaids) and got all giddy!  I also tried to compile a list of nursery wants at Pottery Barn Kids.  If we weren't leaving tomorrow for a Mother's Day Weekend aka reason to take Peewee to SeaWorld for our last family of 3 vacation, I'd be buying paint for the nursery & getting that ball rolling.

It's probably a good thing we're going away for a few days!  I may just overdo it & try to finish everything ASAP now that I know we're having a "Noah." :)