I sometimes think that if you haven't been down this road of multiple miscarriages, infertility, fertility drugs, weeks of bleeding while pregnant, etc. it's easy to think that it's time for me to just "relax." To enjoy being pregnant.
But in reality, the best way I can think of to describe this to you is to say that if you put me in the middle of an NFL stadium, a tiny little dot on the 50 yard line, and let me just pour it all out, my worries and anxiety would fill up every inch of the stadium.
I am fragile.
My OB totally gets that. Other health professionals? Not so much.
Today I had my hospital ultrasound and the baby is in a really bad position for scanning. It's breech and tightly curled up and just darn hard to see. I already KNOW all the parts are there, I have had an ultrasound at least twice a month until now.
Anyway. All of that is to say that there was drama at the hospital again today. Scary doctors saying all kinds of unnecessary things and so forth. I called my OB from the hospital, who called the doctor there and set him straight about scaring me to death. And then demanded to hear the "no bullshit" version of what was going on with our baby.
And he was assured that everything is fine. Hard to see, but fine. And while I do not trust random doctors who make vague remarks about the health of my baby, I do trust (and love) my OB.
And we now have two guesses about the sex of said baby. Guesses because of the awkward position, but maybe you'd like to meet...
(See what I mean about her bad position?)
Now. Miss Thing, we are at 19 weeks. We are halfway to having you in our arms. Hang tight in there, okay? This mama is still fightin' hard.
Even if looking at all those pink things at the consignment sale last week caused me to hyperventilate a bit. :-)