When Nate died, I thought that I would never again be in the ultrasound room, looking at a healthy baby on that monitor. It seemed impossible. And then the miscarriage--it seemed even more impossible. But on Thursday, I was there. And it was as beautiful and amazing as I remembered.
I was there with Tom and our moms. There is no way that we could have gotten through Nate's death without them and we wanted them to be in on this one from the beginning. When the tech put the wand on my belly, she exclaimed, "Whoa, we've got a wiggler!" Ha, ha! I knew it wasn't gas. And then, "Look at those long, skinny, big feet!" And at that point, I started to wonder if this baby really was a girl, as I was suspecting. Nate had big ol' feet. She moved the wand around, checking measurements--leg bones, head circumference, then, "We've got some hangy down parts. It's a boy! And his hand is already down there, so you guys better watch out!" (Tom and I thought after the appointment that she must have some boys at home.) After hearing "It's a boy!" I started crying. And laughing. Tom squeezed my hand, and I knew that he was happy too. Moms were crying and laughing. Later he said, "You know why we got a boy?" I was expecting him to say, "Listening to AC/DC" like he had when we found out Nate was a boy. He said, "Because I was wearing my lucky boxer shorts." He's so cute.
More measurements and we listened to the heartbeat. The whole thing was finished in about five minutes. We got some pictures that for the most part, we can't figure out what they are. Especially the "boy part" picture. Although we do have a good face shot, which is a little scary. ("This is my son, Skeletor.")
Later, we went in to see the OB, who managed not to stick his foot in his mouth this time, thankfully. I was still very nervous, because I knew that the ultrasound tech couldn't tell me anything, even if she saw that something was wrong. But Dr. W said, "Everything looks great!" And I said, "Okay, I want to see why everything looks great. Show me what you're looking at." And he did. He went over everything in great detail with Tom and I, what could be wrong and why this one was alright. I felt better, but of course I'm still not great and I won't be until he's out of me, which I don't consider to be a very safe place for my child. I feel like he's standing on the edge of traffic, and all I can do is hope that a car doesn't swerve to hit him.
So, here we are. Things seem to be fine and I'm left with my thoughts on having a boy--a second son. I was so convinced that I was having a girl, and I was cool with that. I just want a healthy, take-home baby. I was excited about the prospect of having a girl, buying those big bows and making her head look like a little gift-wrapped bowling ball. I was just convinced! I had told my sister that I would be so incredibly shocked to see a boy on that ultrasound, because it was going to be a girl. Actually, I think my exact words were, "I'm gonna be shocked to shit if I see a little wiener on that ultrasound!" Because I'm that kind of classy. I was excited about having a girl, but deep down I wondered if I would ever get a chance to be a mom to a living boy. And the thought of all of Nate's things packed up in the attic, waiting to be used by a brother made me sad. All these things that a little brother would use even if Nate had lived. I think that deep down, I really wanted another boy. And I think that Tom did, too. And not to replace Nate, but...you know.