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May. 7th, 2003 06:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ocelotI haven't updated about the last appointment yet, because there isn't a whole lot to update. Baby seems to be growing on track, her heart is still beating properly, and my urine is as perfect as ever. I haven't gained any weight since last visit, which concerns me a bit, even though it doesn't concern them. Not so much because I think I'm unhealthy - I was overweight to begin with, so I probably don't need to gain as much, but because I'm afraid the doctors in VA will be less laid back about it, and go and classify me as high risk. Oh well. I've still got 10 weeks or so to gain more.
The appointments are getting very routine - a quick 5 minute check and I'm done. I wish they'd at least tell me the numbers - I like knowing what is going on. Even listening to the heartbeat is routine. I'm sure that, had I heard the heartbeat before the first ultrasound, it would have been one of the most moving experiences of my life. But now I'm perfectly aware the baby is alive - it's hard not to be aware of the life of something doing the hokey-pokey in your belly all day. Not that it isn't good to have the confirmation that the heartbeat is fine.
I think part of my annoyance was the midwife. I didn't particularly like this one. Most of them I adore. This one was nice enough, but gave me the distinct feeling she'd rather be doing something else.
I feel guilty about this apathy/dissatisfaction. A pregnant woman on a mailing list I'm on just found out at her 22 week ultrasound that her baby is dead. She'll be induced tomorrow. I feel awful for her, and awful for feeling anything less than ecstatic about any indication that my baby is healthy. Not that I want her to be unhealthy, but my feelings about uneventful doctor appointments and being kicked in the bladder for the zillionth time are generally somewhat less than ecstatic.
Every time I read about someone else's baby dying, baby throws a kicky fit. I like to think she's reassuring me that she's perfectly fine.
The appointments are getting very routine - a quick 5 minute check and I'm done. I wish they'd at least tell me the numbers - I like knowing what is going on. Even listening to the heartbeat is routine. I'm sure that, had I heard the heartbeat before the first ultrasound, it would have been one of the most moving experiences of my life. But now I'm perfectly aware the baby is alive - it's hard not to be aware of the life of something doing the hokey-pokey in your belly all day. Not that it isn't good to have the confirmation that the heartbeat is fine.
I think part of my annoyance was the midwife. I didn't particularly like this one. Most of them I adore. This one was nice enough, but gave me the distinct feeling she'd rather be doing something else.
I feel guilty about this apathy/dissatisfaction. A pregnant woman on a mailing list I'm on just found out at her 22 week ultrasound that her baby is dead. She'll be induced tomorrow. I feel awful for her, and awful for feeling anything less than ecstatic about any indication that my baby is healthy. Not that I want her to be unhealthy, but my feelings about uneventful doctor appointments and being kicked in the bladder for the zillionth time are generally somewhat less than ecstatic.
Every time I read about someone else's baby dying, baby throws a kicky fit. I like to think she's reassuring me that she's perfectly fine.
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Date: 2003-05-08 06:08 am (UTC)For what it's worth, you've made it this far - likely you'll make it all the way, and so will the little Lemur. We've got a Snow White dress I made for Deb when she was almost three - both kids are now grown out of it. Yellow skirt, red bodice, blue puffy sleeves. Classic Disney style. Want it? Or would you guys rather have the cute little blue NASA jumpsuit?
:-