There’s no moral to this story, but it did happen, so I thought I’d share.
I went in for my routine checkup yesterday afternoon. After the usual banter with Dr. H, I hopped up on the table and he started to check for the baby’s heartbeat. And then kept checking. He spoke encouragingly about the size of my stomach and the “glimpses” of the heartbeat he kept catching, but he couldn’t lock in on it with the doppler machine. After a few very long seconds, he said, “I guess we’re going to have to use the ultrasound.”
He stepped out of the room, I began to cry. By the time the machine was ready to go, I was a complete mess. Dr. H noticed my distress and tried to calm my fears, but there’s nothing you can say to a worried mama at that moment, not when we’ve been here before.
But then he found it. A little white fluttering heartbeat on the screen, indicating a healthy, thriving, although awkwardly positioned little Tres. I watched him (or her) flutter around, as Dr. H pointed out hands and feet and profile and spine, along with other distinguishing landmarks.
I kept crying from relief, we turned up the volume to listen to that heartbeat, and Dr. H printed out some pictures for me to take home. When it was all over, he helped me shakily rise to my feet and reminded me that we’d do an ultrasound again next time where we’d get to spend even more time getting to know little Tres.
I gathered my things and made my way to the main lobby, where the full force of what had Almost Just Happened hit me. I rode the elevator, exited the hospital, and hiked the six miles to my parking spot, all the while shaking uncontrollably and hyperventilating. (How is that for a picture of grace and poise? But people must flip out in the hospital pretty frequently, because I didn’t get too many strange looks. Either that or it wasn’t actually as obvious as it seemed.)
I sank into the driver’s seat and started to settle down. After all, the baby was fine, I got a bonus ultrasound (and I’ve already met my deductible this year, so take that, Insurance Provider!) and I had a printout of my little one giving me a “Gig ’em” thumbs up. And if things hadn’t been fine, well…we know how to deal with that too.
There actually are some morals to this story. But that’s a post for another day.