Snowplow Man Still Alive
They plowed our street today about noon, leaving me with plenty of time to get to the OB’s office for my ultrasound.
The enire time I was at her office, I kept reliving the blighted ovum of yore. Same parking lot; same appointment time; same room; same sonogram machine, same sonographer. (For miscarriage #2 I only had my sonograms at the hospital so I am sure that anxiety will come later.)
This time, insead of an empty sac, we had an actual baby. An actual baby with a heartbeat (176bpm), moving arms, and a squirmy body.
Old wives’ say lots of puking and/or a high heart rate mean a girl. It’s too early to tell (and what the hell do old wives know anyway, right?) but I have both of those. We will name her, if it is a her, after my husband’s bubbe; if it is a boy, we will be kind enough not to name him after a Jewish grandmother.
I am having my “first” (like this is the first time and M.D. will examine my bajingo) OB appointment on 31st of January, and the nuchal-fold test — that I specifically had to request?? — sometime later that week.
Holy fuck — and I didn’t even need to kill the snowplow man.