We’re still rattling along over here, one day after another. There are times when I think this pregnancy is passing so slowly, and times when I realize that I’m already past 16 weeks, officially in only maternity clothes, and people are offering me seats on the streetcar. I’m so visually pregnant that I find it quite disorienting.
We had an early anatomy scan last week. I was a wreck beforehand, not because I really believe that the malformations have recurred, but because I am so traumatized by the experience of a terrible ultrasound. I think I just expect bad news now. So many things need to go right for a baby to develop, and I have to constantly remind myself that still, most babies are fine. Most babies live.
Moose looks great. Lauren got a much better view than I did, but the tech turned the screen for me to see a perfect outstretched hand, and then the reason that it took her so long to get the measurements – Moose was constantly stretching, kicking and ninja-rolling. Much of the brain is still too small to accurately examine, but the parts that can be seen look fine, and both eyes are there and normal. This alone is a huge relief, as an undeveloped eye was our first clue with Ezra that something was wrong. We’ll have a full anatomy scan in a couple of weeks, and probably a specific scan for just the brain at 23 weeks. I hope with everything that I have that things will continue to go well.
We celebrated Easter with Lauren’s family, and finally told everyone who didn’t already know that I was pregnant, to a touching outpouring of delight. I did feel a pang when we assembled the assorted nieces and nephews for the annual Easter photo, lined up by age, and did the familiar calculation. If things had been different, we’d be propping up an almost five-month-old Ezra at the end of the row. If all goes well (we hope, we hope), next year we’ll be propping up a six-month-old Moose. And I think, there will still always be a gap in the line for me, along with a very wanted baby who wouldn’t otherwise exist. How do I unravel that? I suppose I don’t have to. It is what it is. There’s no puzzle to solve, just our story to live out.
Otherwise, not too much to report. I’ve progressed to heartburn and wicked nighttime foot cramps. The insomnia has kicked in. Morning sickness seems to be a thing of the past, and instead I am eating us out of house and home. The anterior placenta continues to try my patience as I’m not feeling very much, although I know that I probably will soon. We felt brave enough last week to buy a tiny baby hat in the shape of a lobster. I unpacked and then repacked the pregnancy books, because they’re terrifying and I worry enough. I was reminded this week about bumping my belly on the edge of the sink when I wash dishes – I’d forgotten. I am filled with nostalgia, with gratitude, with fear and with hope.