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Because He has answered our long and fervent prayers for another child.  We’re expecting again, and the newest Baby Green should be making an entrance in December.  Thank you so much to any and all who prayed for us, especially yesterday as we waited to hear the baby’s heartbeat, and to everyone who has kept us in their prayers since we first found out about Gianna last year.  These last few months have been filled with ups and downs (to the point that I have felt, at times, like I must be a resident of Nottingham; you know, “Sometimes ups outnumber the downs, but not in Nottingham”?).  Our experience yesterday at the clinic (because we don’t have insurance, but that’s a whole other story for another day) was basically like a microcosm of our lives ever since we found out I was pregnant with Gianna last summer, but thankfully, it ended on a good note.

When I posted yesterday morning, it was from the waiting room of the clinic, far too early in the morning, as I waited for the office staff to arrive.  When I was finally seen, the resident (not my normal doctor, but again, it’s a clinic), tried to find the baby’s heartbeat, and couldn’t.  I felt as if I held my breath for the 10 minutes he took to look for it with the handheld Doppler machine he was using.  It felt like a repeat of the events in November, where we went in expecting to see our baby, find out the sex, and start deciding on a name, and came home bowing under the weight of the terrible news that our child had already passed away.  Finally, he gave up and decided to send us for an ultrasound at the hospital next door, assuring us that this was “normal” and “probably meant nothing”.   So reassuring.

When we got to the hospital and finally got to the right place (because he hadn’t called ahead as he should have) we went into the room with the ultrasound tech and waited.  Within a few moments of turning on the machine, she flipped the magic switch, and there it was, one of the most beautiful sounds in the world to an expectant parent: a strong, healthy heartbeat, full of life.  After a couple more minutes of checking things out, she decided to send me on a walk to wake up the sleepy baby.  I decided to get some food, as not having eaten isn’t conducive to an active baby.  As far as we knew everything was fine.

While drinking my coffee in the cafe downstairs, I got a phone call from the nurse at the clinic.  She sounded subdued when she asked how I was doing.  When I told her what had gone on she seemed surprised.  Clearly, we were not getting the same information.  I asked if i should be worried, and she tried to calmly brush off my fears (that she had caused in the first place, albeit accidentally and out of concern), and told me to call her when the ultrasound was finished.  I was crushed.  I was certain something was wrong with my baby, again.  Maybe the heartbeat wasn’t as strong as I thought.  Maybe the baby was missing limbs or had any number of other issues.  I had no way of knowing without going back upstairs, but I felt as if I might not be able to make the walk to the elevator.  With the help and support of the Husband, I managed.

Once again, we entered the exam room.  The tech took one look at our faces and immediately apologized for the horrible miscommunication that had taken place.  She explained that, with the residents not calling ahead, things had gotten confused and the wrong information was given when the nurse had called.  She assured us that everything was fine with the baby, and then, once again, played us the heartbeat.  She showed us the baby, who was basically taking a rest, lounging if you will.  Then, we relaxed as we watched the baby move every which way but the way she wanted it to, and finally curl itself into a ball.  It was wonderful and we could not have been more thrilled.

So, once again, I say thank you to everyone who was praying for us, because I know, without those prayers and God’s grace, we could never have made it through a day like that.  Trust me, I’ll be keeping you posted.