| Week 35 The decision was made and it has been deemed that we are going to be the proud parents of a beautiful baby girl. Grandma and Grandpa Foner were there and so was Grandma Hansen. Everybody was thrilled to get to be a part of this very special event. Monday's ultrasound was a success, even if it was mostly like the others. The 4D part was all of maybe 5 minutes. They didn't really use it to do anything, only to take a picture for us. Almond was a tad bit stubborn.at this ultrasound. Part of it wasn't really her fault. She's just gotten too big by this stage of pregnancy for us to get a really clear picture of her face. However, beyond that she kept her foot up by her face for nearly the entire ultrasound. We may have a gymnast on our hands, the way she's got her legs situated. Once the initial excitement of just being in for the ultrasound, was past, I started to really think about why we were there. I got nervous that the tech or the perinatologist might actually find something wrong. Nothing specific, more a fear of what wasn't yet known. They were able to use color to show good blood flow through the heart and the umbilical cord. The perinatologist said there were no blockages in the stomach or other apparent problems that would cause any concern. There was a good amount of amniotic fluid, which I guess means not too much and not too little. They checked all of her vital organs and her limbs. Everything appears to be in perfect order. We even got to see her practice breathing. They showed us her lungs moving. She scored an 8 out of 8 on the bio-physical profile. We couldn't ask for better news. Almond is measuring just a little short of 35 weeks, but only by a day or two which isn't a problem at all. Also, they gave her weight at about 5lbs. This means that assuming another, almost 3 weeks to grow, she should weigh about 6.5lbs at birth. I personally think she is bigger than that, but we'll see. The support group meeting was the same evening as the ultrasound. This was probably a good thing. I am very happy the baby is healthy and I'm even starting to be happy that I'm having a girl. I've always wanted a little girl. Someone to buy pretty dresses for, to play dolls and barbies and house, to laugh and shop with, to someday help plan a wedding with. These are only just a few of the dreams I have about bringing up my own little girl. I know that she may have other ideas and that there will be rocky days when I'll consider sending her off somewhere, but mostly I love the idea of having a little girl. The problem is that I've found myself mourning the loss of a son again. I've said from the begining of this pregnancy that I thought the baby was a girl. When I thought about our family, I always pictured having a boy first and then having a little girl. We had our boy and now it's time to have our girl. However, I still want to raise my boy. I have dreams of the frogs and the puppies, the sloppy, dirt streaked grins, tractors, cars and trains, the fearlessness and his eventually outgrowing me. I see a young man graduating and going out into the world. I am not upset that I am having a girl, just sad that I am not having a boy. There is a part of me that is mourning my son again while celebrating my daughter. It has taken me all week to get excited about the little pink dresses and mary jane shoes. I know that at least part of me spent the entire pregnancy trying to convince myself that I was having a girl so that I wouldn't be disappointed if the baby were actually a girl. It wasn't so much that I believed Almond was a girl as I wanted to make myself believe that she was a girl. I think, I thought that this way I would be prepared for either event. It was an emotional day regardless and I found myself alternately crying, wanting to cry and being mad at myself for feeling anything other than complete elation that the baby is healthy. The women in the support group had all the right things to say and I am grateful for their support. Annette also delivered a baby of the opposite sex after her loss. She told me how her emotions ran during the rest of her pregnancy. I know that I am not alone in my mourning, it just feels that way sometimes. Dylan and I talked a little this week about how nothing feels real yet. We know we're having a baby and we're already so in love with her. At the same time it's hard to believe we're having a baby. It's hard to reconcile my belly with the thought that just maybe, we're going to take an infant home from the hospital. There are time when I look at my belly and I'm almost surprised that it's mine. Dylan says that it must be really hard for me, getting towards the end now. I'm not sure that hard is the right word. Everything just feels a little unreal. We've been here before, we've gone through this and felt the anticipation. There have been the knowing looks and the excitement and the only thing we know is the pain of not bringing home a baby. It's hard to reconcile that this time it will be different, that this time we will have a baby to show for the waiting. I know that I'm not getting this across right. There was a sense of unreality last time, but it was different then, we had no idea what to expect. None of it had been done before, we had never given birth. This time, we've been through the entire process, just not the end part, the part that we had expected for so long without any thought that anything else could happen. Since we don't know anything other than what we've already experienced, it's hard to imagine what it will be like to have an experience so vastly different than what we've been through. As I sit here typing this, Almond (who at this time shall remain nameless until her birth) is moving ever so gently and only once in awhile. She has just under two weeks before her eviction notice becomes effective. I cannot wait to meet my daughter. To see who she looks like, to watch her sleep, to feed her. There are only days left until her arrival and that's hard to believe. I'm so very ready for her to make an appearance. The world is ready to meet Almond, to welcome and embrace her. It's going to be a fantastic birth. |