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Today, I went in for an ultrasound.  Guys, if you’re reading this, you can skip ahead a few lines, to the line in all caps.  You probably don’t want to know what the exam was for.

So, the doctor decided, that, since I’ve had a miscarriage recently, I need to have my cervix checked.  Apparently, this involves and internal ultrasound (you know, the one where they use a wand, with essential a condom on it, and inset it guess where) and apparently I need to have this done every two weeks for most of the rest of the pregnancy.  I’ll let that one sink in ladies, and now we’ll hope whatever men may have been reading this will rejoin the conversation.


As I was saying, I went in for an exam and, I’m thankful to say, the ultrasound tech was amazing.  She looked at the date of my last ultrasound, and then at the date my next is scheduled for, and, realizing that said dates are about seven weeks apart, decided to just go ahead and do a growth check.  To say the Husband and I were relieved would be the understatement of the year.  When she turned the screen towards us, there he/she was, just lounging, in an awkward but funny position, and moving around like crazy.  The heartbeat was 149 BPM, which still leaves us wondering if we’ll be adding more pink or blue to our onesie collection this December, but one thing was certain: it was an absolutely healthy heart rate.  Mommy’s nerves: calmed.  Daddy’s spirits: lifted.  Family: happy.

Done. Done. And done.

By the way, in case your were wondering, I’m 16 weeks along today, and the baby measured 16 weeks, 1 day in size, so right on target.  Whew! *wipes sweat from brow in an overly dramatic fashion*