thirteen weeks

I can't really put a finger on why I've been finding it difficult to write. Sure, Mr. C was out of town for a week and he took the notebook with him (which would have meant sitting up in a proper chair at a desk, yuck), but he has been home now for several days and I am only just now giving it a try.

Things are still moving along in a way that should be reassuring. Yesterday we had another visit with the OB and the nurse, who pronounces my name right and everything (which I can't tell you how much I love), made a comment about my growing baby belly. Doc found the heartbeat without too much effort and I didn't have a panic attack when it didn't happen right away and he had to apply a bunch more goo for his second attempt. Mothership went with me for this visit in case she had any questions concerning the surgery. She was beaming all day afterward because she got to hear little one's galloping heartbeat.

I go in for the cerclage a week from tomorrow. I know I keep going on about it, but I really do heart my OB. Yesterday, after asking him a page full of questions I started improvising even more questions. At that point some of them kind of don't really have an answer, but he still worked through them with me. When I asked him a what-if sort of question that basically was "what if I am freaking out?" but worded in a way that veiled it to make me sound more reasonable, his answer was that I could call them and come in any time. I needed to hear that. So far, I have been managing to talk myself down whenever I freak out. But it is nice to know that I can go in there if I need to. Fortunately I have appointments with him every two weeks and visits to the Peri in between, so I should be covered.

I met with the Peri a couple of weeks ago. They did the nuchal translucency scan that day and it showed little one meeting all of the standards. I went to the lab and did the blood test that day as well. No results have been reported to me, so I am taking that as a positive sign. We got to see little one in 4D, all curled up and looking cozy. Next week I will have another ultrasound done before the surgery. They will be measuring my cervix, but I sure do hope that we will get another peek at little one. Who, by the way, I've started to feel fluttering around in there. At first it was so subtle that I thought it must be my imagination or, well, gas. But after several days of feeling it I am certain that it is, indeed, the baby.

Over the weekend I took what felt like a giant leap and went shopping for maternity pants. If I had gone alone I probably would have chickened out and just bought some low-rise pants in a size bigger than I normally wear. But I had told our office coordinator that I needed to go shopping for pants and Mothership was in her office and overheard me. I didn't realize she was there, otherwise I wouldn't have said anything. She loves to spoil me and will take any opportunity to go shopping, which makes me feel a bit guilty. Without any prior discussion when we got to the mall she led me right into the maternity shop. To my delight I found out that there has been a great advance in maternity wear in the three years since I was pregnant with William. Yes, the clothes were pretty much the same then in terms of style and quality. But the belly panels have really advanced. Among the pants with thick, heavy weight belly panels they now have many with this thin, light weight stretchy fabric that feels so good to me. For some reason this time I cannot tolerate anything even slightly tight around my belly. I have officially crossed the threshold and am now wearing maternity clothes. The earth didn't open up and swallow me, like it felt like it would.

I'm taking tiny steps, tip-toeing though this pregnancy. I try to visualize the baby. I want so badly to feel some sort of connection, but so far I don't think that I do. Mr. C is great. He talks to the baby and puts his hand on my belly. He says things like, "Honey, come here, and bring the baby with you." I can't shake the feeling, though, that it is all just pretend. Whenever my due date is brought up it reminds me that we had one of those before, but it came four months after the baby arrived. For now I just can't think that far ahead. One week. I can handle thinking ahead to one week.