My baby looks like a baby. I said to the technician, this is the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. I hardly look and barely feel pregnant, and yet my baby is dancing inside my uterus, oblivious to anything outside. The tech kept pressing my belly to try to get one last measurement, and the baby had stopped moving, and wouldn't move no matter how much pressing and jiggling she did, or how much deliberate coughing and laying back and turning on my side I did. The baby was unphased. Our child is stubborn and likes to sleep a lot, MFP said; takes after us. I was so worn out from the excitement I came home and slept the rest of the day.
The geneticist at MFM suggested the NT scan even though we are also doing the more definitive cell free DNA blood test, since I have a lot of family risk factors, and we jumped at the chance. We were nervous of course in advance. We are always braced for disaster, like everything is this terrifying gauntlet we have to go through, but we joked after the scan that measured out baby to be perfectly healthy--no sign of genetic defects, thank creation--that we always forget to anticipate that after the gauntlet lies not just relief and things as they already are, but absolutely amazing dreams coming true. We get the results of the blood test, likely by mid-next week. If that's good, which looks like they very well may be, we'll tell work about my pregnancy. And maybe buy a baby book again.
Monday I'll also look for a heartbeat with the midwife at my physical, which I moved earlier because I didn't think I was getting a scan. Now I'll get two checks on the baby right after another. I hope I can get through the anxiety ok of the wait for the next one.
We shared the ultrasound baby-looking photo with MFP's family, and I liked how they all responded--teary and excited, like it was huge news. My friends were happy for me but not nearly as much--maybe because at our age babies happen all the time. I know even if I weren't estranged from my family, their response would be disappointing. There are so many of them, babies are an everyday event, and they don't really show that much emotion anyway. I felt sad after I ran into my sister who I haven't seen maybe close to two years last weekend. We just waved and smiled and she biked along and I kept walking Pupstein. I wanted to say, "I'm pregnant!" First thing. It is sad, that loss. When I think about my choices, I have no idea if I'm right or wrong, I'm just bumbling along, doing what I can with regard to my family of origin. But when I think about what I want for my baby, I'm filled with certainty that I want every adult in their life to be someone they can be real with, who won't impose a different set of standards than the one we live by in our house, where no emotion or topic is off-limits. It's hard to carve a new path. But actually, I think, even harder to stay on an old one that keeps old wounds from healing and causes sadness and shame.
Today I thought about that beautiful moving figure of a baby and I thought about what an adventure it will be to raise a baby in a house filled with love and openness and impromptu dancing with parents who have creative and engaging lives of their own to share. I felt like I'd moved to a land of dreams, even though I'm stuck living only a few blocks from the sad house I grew up in. I'm so happy, right now, I have this baby all bound up with me.
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