We’ve hit another milestone that once felt very out of reach. It’s been two weeks since my last ultrasound, and I’m actually not completely freaking out. I feel good, aside from having a cold, my back killing me, and feeling like somebody is trying to shove a wrecking ball up into my ribcage. It’s a wonderful problem and as much as it hurts, I kind of like the pain.
We had an appointment this morning that went well. My belly is measuring 31 1/2 weeks. The little dude wanted no part of the doppler. My belly looked like somebody stuffed a cat in a duffle bag and it took forever because he kept moving, plus his heart rate kept getting really high because he was moving around so much.
We discussed the “after” part of the pregnancy at this appointment. Our nurse practitioner suggested a parenting class, but I shut down when she recommended the “first time parenting” class at our hospital. I don’t have to explain why the title of that class stings. We picked our pediatrician while we were there. It wasn’t quite like throwing a dart at the wall, but it was pretty close. I know a lot of people like to interview pediatricians, but I figure we’re not going to know how we like someone with our kid until the kid is here, and if we have to, we’ll just switch then.
We ordered the little dude’s furniture this week, along with every other baby item we could possibly need. We originally thought we’d wait until at least 32 weeks, but I was ready around 28 and Dave was ready closer to 30. It feels very optimistic, but it’s not scaring me. Well, the pile of cloth diapers in our current guest room is scaring the crap out of me, but not in the “oh my god I’m going to jinx it” kind of way. It’s more in the “oh my god we’re having a baby and we might get to actually bring him home” kind of way. It’s another wonderful problem to have.