Baby, The Second: Week 23

We went in for our third ultrasound today, with the added fun of a fetal echo request, because we wanted to see if we'd be facing a similar heart issue with this one that we faced with Brigid. Not that we'd be able to do anything about it if we did find a problem, but you know when the absolute worst time is to find out that there is a problem with your baby?

When you've only had that baby for 24 hours. Hospital hormones are not to be trifled with, my friends.

The good news is that, as far as they can tell from the ultrasound, we don't seem to be facing the same issues here that we faced with Brigid. And that's somewhat of a relief, anyway, even if you can never be 100% sure that everything is ok until she comes out.

(Also...she's still a she, as evidenced by the shot of her girly bits she greeted us with, clear as day, when we started the ultrasound process. So, we have that going for us, which is nice...)

The bad news is that it took us an extended period of time to get the views we needed to show that there didn't seem to be a problem, because this kid is STUBBORN. Every time the ultrasound tech had me shift so she could get a better look? This little snot shifted with me, effectively blocking whatever it was we needed to see. We had the same problem with Brigid, when they were trying to get a decent measurement on her at her second ultrasound, to the point that they made me get up off of the table and sent me to the waiting room to 'bounce around in my chair for awhile', to see if she'd shift to a more manageable position.

That's right...I raise them difficult over here.

But...things are good. All of the baby's measurements look fine, I've passed all of the bloodwork tests they've given me, and her heart appears to only have holes where it should have holes. She did measure in at 1lb 7oz, which, at this point, puts her in the 58th percentile in size, compared to her big sister, who, at an ultrasound two weeks earlier in the process, weighed in at 1lb 2oz, which put her in the 77th percentile.

If she keeps this up, my doctor might actually expect me to go at least the full forty weeks this time. I'm going to have to get back on the Oreos to beef this kid up, I think...