21 Weeks & Counting

As promised I am posting about my most recent and (not so) mysterious last post.

My 2nd sonogram was scheduled well over a month ago for November the 18th at 10 AM. Or so I thought (I schedule every appointment I have these days for 10 AM if possible because it's when I know I can be awake, functioning, and wherever it is I need to be). I could be wrong. I lost the original paper I was given with the info about where I needed to go and when. Naturally, at my next appointment I requested another sheet so that I had something tangible to insure I arrive when and where I was supposed to be.

A cruel count-down began about a week before the fateful date. Cruel because I announced how many days until the 2nd sonogram via my personal Facebook but was not going to be telling everyone the info they wanted to know that day. The plan was to announce it to my family via text message as soon as we knew boy or girl and then to tell the boys family today.

Why wait the extra week? Because everyone here in Ohio wanted to be the first to know and no one can keep a secret. To make sure that no one got upset that they weren't the first to know and to keep our news our news we wanted a time when everyone should be together to be told at the same time (much like we tried to do when we announced my pregnancy.)

That Morning
November 18th (obviously) arrived and we. were. excited. The boy asked for part of his morning off from work to go with me to the hospital. I felt like we were cutting time just a bit shorter than we should. And once in the car, and not far from the hospital, with barely any time left (it was about 9:50 AM) - I decided to look once more at the paper. And oh. dear. gawd. The paper said the appointment was at 9:15 AM!!!

Now not only am I worried about our being late but very worried that they will refuse to see us. The only real consolation was the paper saying the appointment was for between November 18th and November 27th.

We arrive and manage to park on the wrong side of the hospital. I waddled (yes, I waddle now) as quickly as I could along with the boy to what we thought should be the correct side of the hospital. We rush into an elevator, hit "6", and wait for our floor. By this point I'm feeling less than "okay." I really hadn't eaten any breakfast, a quarter of a saltine (but I knew I was supposed to be getting Burger King after!), and was now feeling sweaty, dizzy, and a bit nauseated. Feeling victorious but still pretty lost we walk up to a nurses station and tell them what we are there for. The nurse informed us we were on the wrong 6th floor. Seriously!? That can happen!? The nurses take one look at me and ask if I'm going to be okay. Feeling like poop and definitely unable to focus on anything other than getting to see my baby again I tell them the only response I have to give them right now, "probably not but I'll make it."

Once on the correct 6th floor and speed waddling down the hallway to where we feel has to be the correct place the boy speaks with the woman at the desk. Who wastes no time in telling us we're late. In fact. She tells us the appointment was at 9:30! and the sonographer just left! I guess about then she finally got a look at me and realized I wasn't okay. Not okay enough she called for a nurse.

I was told I could sit down around the corner and she would see if anyone could do the sonogram. I was brought graham crackers (which can be seen on my chest in the photo in my most recent post) and apple juice and eventually a wheelchair (which I greatly appreciated because standing had stopped being my strong suit.)

They located a person to do the sonogram and checked me in.

The (Anatomy) Sonogram
The person who did the sonogram had admittedly not been doing this for very long but refused to say how short a time or where she went to school. She took what must have been at least 30 pictures. All pictures were blurry (Shown are the two best pictures we got. Also everything we got looks pretty creepy as you can see.) and she was rarely able to see whatever she was looking for.

However, for a few moments we were fortunate enough to see our baby's profile. And. I. Cried.

When she first began looking the boy and I thought we saw a flicker of "boy parts" but those possible parts were not in view again through the rest of our visit.

Tadpole was very obviously awake that morning. Every time the woman pressed down on my belly, Tadpole kicked right back where they pushed. Seeing and feeling a kick simultaneously is an interesting sensation, possibly more-so when I realized the sonographer could feel it as well.

The sonographer had such a difficult time that she went to get a doctor to look over her pictures and have a look at Tadpole herself. When the boy and I asked what would happen if the sex was not determined that day they told us we'd have to be surprised on delivery day.

Tadpole kept it's legs crossed through the entire sonogram. The legs moved but stayed crossed. When the doctor went around behind Tadpole to look to see if we have a boy or girl, we saw a clear view of butt cheeks and then those very butt cheeks decided to sit down on a foot and block anything.

In the end the doctor said from what she can see her "gut" says the baby is a girl, but for us not to go buying pink.

About Tadpole
From what we were told Tadpole (on that day) is 14 ounces, has 10 toes, 10 fingers, and looks healthy!

What Now?
I've been unhappy with the level of care at the clinic I've been going to and a month or three ago decided I was more than a little interested in switching the hospital at which I was to deliver.

Don't get me wrong, the ladies at my clinic are nice. But the care of a doctor instead of a mid-wife is something I prefer with our first baby and I would like someone whom when I tell them, "I've been sick for 2 days", will ask a better follow-up question than, "we gave you that paper of which medications you're allowed to take right?"

I see the new doctor on Monday and should be beginning the necessary steps to change delivery hospitals. We are also hoping for a more skilled sonographer to take another look to give us a better answer than a "gut" answer if at all possible.

Accidental Pre-Mommy Learning Experience

Tonight I had a mini crash course in what I may expect in the years that are soon to come.

Picture it, dinner time. I'm hungry, the boy is hungry, the dog is hungry and no one wants to cook. Fantastic.

Usually I have an idea of what I'd like to make for dinner ahead of time but in recent months there's no reason for it because by time for dinner Tadpole may want something entirely off menu.

A few days ago my cousin Brandy posted that her sister-in-law was making her pork chops. PORK CHOPS! ME WANT!

I like, at all times, to have some pork chops in the freezer. After a few days, or possibly a week (who can tell? - the days all run together when you don't have a "real" job) I finally got around to doing something about thawing those frozen chops. And by "I finally got around to doing something", I mean this morning before the boy left for work I asked him to move them from the freezer into the fridge.

Back to the dilemma of everyone being hungry and no one being willing to cook. The result was the same as always. I man up and get in the kitchen.

Too tired to properly braise pork chops, create a demi-glace, and separately make some mushrooms to go with mine (because the boy doesn't eat "fungi"), I decide to fry them.

Side dishes would have to take a bake seat tonight because there were four thumbs in this house belonging to "this person" who wasn't willing to put in the effort. This knowledge made me play in my mind that scene from the chickenpox South Park episode.

Cartman: So, what kind of side dishes are we going to enjoy this evening with our frozen waffles?
(pause)
Cartman: Am I to understand there will be no side dishes?

In an attempt to cut down on time in the kitchen I prepare a zip-lock bag with what can essentially be considered a shake 'n bake mix. The plan was to have the boy be my helper and shake while I coat and re-coat the floured and panko'd pork chops as well as fried them. As I prepared my personal shake 'n bake mix I envisioned a toddling Tadpole in the kitchen helping mommy fry food for dinner.

The process went much slower than anticipated, much as I have been told that things go when you have a little one who wants to help. The difference here is the boy didn't particularly want to help. Visions of a toddling Tadpole helping "shake" food for dinner have not faded but have been altered to mommy having better sense and starting dinner much earlier.

The boy had never eaten fried pork chops and I am always happy to be the direct cause of his experiencing and enjoying a new dish. In the end, all parties involved were in agreeNOMt. The boy even decided to make his own inside-out chopwhich.

Thankfully dessert was much easier. Take 1 mini watermelon, cut in half, and share with a loved one. Feed remainder to furry loved one.