Today I was something of a wreck.
Just walking into the Genetics Center where we learned of Celine's fate made me feel like I couldn't breathe. When I laid down on the table I grabbed on to this necklace I chose to wear today. It isn't symbolic at all, just a really smooth aqua blue stone that feels calming when I rub it. The Viking grabbed my toes at the other end of the table, as I stared up into the monitor, trying to test my considerable lay skills at identifying birth defects....
The ultrasound technician made tons of comments.... heart rate is great, 160s.....your placenta is posterior.... it looks like you have an ant baby (??? THANKS TECH???).....head to rump length is measuring 12 weeks 5 days.... abdominal wall looks great (INSERT AUDIBLE BREATH)....And she went on.
It took some time for this baby to allow us to see its nasal bone. The nuchal measurement was great, but none of my valiant efforts at telepathy worked in moving this baby to give us a face view. I guess this baby isn't listening to me any more than my one living child does.
Finally, a quick turn.
And wait, is this baby fucking laughing at us?