So, It Appears I Have Something Growing in There...

We had our first ultrasound today. Exciting stuff. Didn't go exactly as planned, but it wouldn't be in keeping with the Steinham fashion if it did. We had the last appointment of the day, at 3 p.m., in Baumholder. Or so we thought. We showed up 15 minutes early like a couple of enthused first timers. Then the check-in lady told us that our doctor wasn't there. If you remember, we worked it out with the last nurse to where we would get to see the traveling OB doctors Landstuhl was sending to Baumholder. Well, our nurse was either not paying attention to the calendar or on crack, because we were informed that Dr. Jackson was seeing his patients at Landstuhl today. While I was still fuming at the check-in counter, Wil started a slow jog to our car. He was determined to see his baby today and not even high speed projectile vomiting could dampen his will. We called and explained the situation to the people at Landstuhl. They were nice enough and said they would wait even if we were a touch late. Baumholder is 30-40 minutes away from Baumholder. Don't asked me how we got there at 3:15 p.m. It wasn't pretty but we got there. Apparently we weren't the only victims of the calendargate. The past was behind us and I amused myself with the vending machines in the waiting room (they sure do know their pregnant peeps). Let me tell you, when they say 3 o'clock is the last appointment of the day, they really mean it. We got called in about 3:30 and most of their employees were just about ready to pack their bags. Naturally, our Dr. Jackson sent the tech to ask if it was okay that we were seen by a midwife instead of him. Nice approach to making a good first impression, Doc. I felt like I might have to apologize to him if our baby should decide to come at 3:50 p.m. and subsequently prolong his day. I was more happy that someone could still see us than irritated. And thank God for our mishap because it really couldn't have turned out any better. We saw a lovely midwife and she was a dream. I always have a vision of what things should look like in real life, and so far two of those actually are dead ringers. One was of my first puppy. Little round white furball with a precious face. Conner. Check. A kind professional who would melt all my worries and fears away with her warm assuring smile and usher me through a daunting pregnancy with her steady hands. Check check. I LOVVVVVE HER! She went on to spend over an hour with us, well after the busy hallway fell silent. She made Wil feel comfortable and a part of everything, even during all those necessary evil tests that involved cold and intrusive instruments. It was really nice to have him there holding my hand and give me a sympathetic wince at first sight of blood. Then came the best part. She pulled out a doppler and stressed that there was no need to worry if we couldn't hear the heartbeats right away (it happens), as she was not going to let us leave the office without knowing. And thankfully, as soon as she put the thing on my stomach, we heard fast thumping. She assured us that about 160 beats/minute were perfectly normal. No wonder why this kid is always hungry and causing The Provider to be utterly restless. On to the ultrasound now. I wish I had videotaped Wil's expression. He was ecstatic and giddy like a little boy that we all know he is as soon as something showed up on the screen. Then we saw it. A little human. In the center of the chest cavity, we could see the flutters of his(her) heart. For the first time in my life, I was, and rather still am, speechless. It was almost like watching tv, only the live broadcast was coming from my womb. For the sake of convenience, I'm going to refer to this baby as a "he," since this is how Wil calls it. His reason is "because then I'll only have to worry about one penis." But I know better. A sweet little tomboy will render him utterly powerless and he's already petrified that his answer to "Papa, I want this" would be "Don't you really NEED two?" or "Here's my bank account number, Baby." I have an incredible relationship with my father growing up and I know this baby couldn't have lucked out any more in the dad/daughter department. Back to the ultrasound, the baby appeared to be sleeping or resting ever so comfortably that he refused to move and get into a better position for measuring purposes. Not very cooperative and definitely our kid. We saw one big noggin, with two developing brain halves, a strong beating heart, two arms and fists that were held up by his face, and two long legs that were attached to two little feet. Then as if knowing that he was in the spotlight, he gave us a little jig. It was kind of like a "Twist and Shout" movement. His hips and arms were moving and he moved his little face. After a few more wiggles of his leg, he went back to sleep. A sleeper, this one. We got some cool pictures that Wil will have to scan in later. All and all, our midwife said that everything looked and measured to be just where 11 weeks of pregnancy should. One big exhale. I told her what I had been surviving on and she said the same thing my mom did, which was that for now I should eat whatever I could hold down. Even if it meant potato chips all the time. The focus was to get some calories in me, even though they weren't exactly nutritious. We'll have to focus more on good food once the nausea subsides. Have I mentioned I loveddddd this woman? Oh, and I gained 4 pounds. I just have to sit and relive all those moments of alternating eating and vomiting. How much did I have to eat to have enough surplus of 4 lbs? That is a lot of ramen noodles!

There's more to tell about our new group prenatal visits that we choose. Yes, I said group. But I'd like to try to sleep some. Wish I could bribe our Little Beatle with some Milkbones so I can sleep past 3 a.m.