12 Week Appointment

I had honestly been looking forward to this appointment for weeks, since it's the (fingers crossed) "you're in the clear" appointment. I had also been really looking forward to this one because I was having another ultrasound, and quite frankly there have been a few moments where I have been questioning if I'm even pregnant since I haven't suffered with sever morning sickness (I know I'm super lucky). Of the few who already knew I was pregnant the common question for me has been "So, how are you feeling?" [insert inflection of the answer should be "terrible"]. So I've grown increasingly concerned that the baby must have fallen out without me noticing since my answer is "good." I actually expressed my concern to my mom and apparently my pregnancy is 100% mirroring her pregnancy with me (which is comforting, because look at how great I popped out, wink wink). She said she felt fairly normal and also found herself often wondering "um, am I really pregnant?" Apparently being good at being pregnant is an Italian gene I luckily inherited, it also comes with birthing hips which develop at age 5, and continue to grow over your life, so it does have it's downsides. Point being, this appointment was my opportunity to make sure that the baby was still growin' away inside despite my lack of nausea.

John joined me for this appointment because we were doing an ultra sound and early detection screenings. For this particular appointment, I was required to have a full bladder for the ultrasound. A full bladder + pregnancy = no bueno. As we waited in the waiting room I was literally dancing in my seat and ripping the pages out of the magazines as I turned them to prevent myself from peeing my pants. Finally a nurse walked out... "Sarah McGarry." Knowing that once the ultrasound was complete I would be allowed to go to the bathroom, I flew out of that seat and was in the ultrasound room before I could even look to make sure John was behind me (don't worry he was).

Every moment of questioning if I was pregnant was reassured within seconds of the ultra sound starting. There on the screen was our little bambino, and it was moving away swim party style! No joke this kid is going to be a mile-a-minute and my mom will finally be able to look at me and say "pay back is a bitch my child."

{insert photos from the ultra sound.... oh wait... John lost them along with a folder of important info from the doctor! I assure you Baby McG looked amazing.}

So, the appointment went great. Everything on the ultrasound looked perfect, whew. We were also able to hear the heartbeat at a rapid, yet normal, 157 beats per minute. It's just so crazy to think about! My blood pressure, weight, etc were all 100% on target. Onward we go! Keep cooking!

Later that evening we were headed to a concert with our friend Adam (aka Bacon), and Katie (his nurse sister) who already knew "the news." Katie, who also happens to work at the hospital I will likely deliver at, was asking John about trip to the doc...

Katie: So, how'd the appointment go today?

John: Humiliating.

(I being within an earshot heard this and couldn't help but chime in).

Me: Um, what exactly was humiliating? everything went great...

John: Well, in my books any meeting that starts with "lift your dress up & take your underwear off" while you're about to pee yourself is pretty humiliating.

And that folks is prenatal care through the eyes of a father... And for those of you wondering, yes, I told him I'm pretty concerned that if the required steps for the ultrasound were "humiliating" then we're in real trouble when it comes to the actual delivery. I think he still believes it's 1920 and expectant dads sit in the waiting room with "it's a ____!" cigars while the mom pops a kid out in the other room. Guess we have a few more months to work that out...