Yesterday, I had the battery of blood tests required by the state of Arkansas for home birth moms. Then we saw the Certified Nurse Midwife who works with Candy for a checkup. She was really nice and especially understanding about my raging case of white-coat high blood pressure. It was just fine by the end of the visit, so no problems there.
She was doing the list of routine checks, listening to the baby's heartbeat and so forth. When she got to measuring fundal height, she started asking me if I was sure about my due date. I'm pretty sure about that. I was supposed to be about one centimeter for each week of pregnancy, or about 25 1/2, but it was more like 29. So that means either wrong due date, huge baby, too much fluid, or twins. So we consulted Candy and she recommended an ultrasound to see what was going on in there.
Now, I've never had an ultrasound before. We've had all our babies with midwives and it's never been necessary, and I've always liked to be surprised at the birth by which gender the baby is. But, come on, if I have to have a diagnostic ultrasound my natural impatience for information takes control. It was a really neat thing to have a peek at this kid three months early. It was also mega-expensive, since we have no health insurance and pay out of pocket (or is it nose?) for our medical care.
First, there are no complications. The baby is just the right size, there's only one in there, and fluid levels are good, too. It just so happens that this baby likes to stretch itself out from top to bottom and throw off the numbers. Figures.
Second, we are having another little BOY! I think Hollis smiled his face off last night when we told him. Now we know what color to paint the nursery, and whether to buy pink or blue clothing. That's a laugh on both fronts, since he will sleep in our room (mostly in our bed), and we have boxes of clothing kept from when Hollis was a baby.
