Yesterday was the heartbeat appointment. This occurs at twelve weeks - though the heartbeat can be detected much earlier than this, and some providers will look for it earlier than mine would. I'd been anxiously awaiting this appointment because once you can detect a heartbeat, your risk of miscarriage goes from 15-20% to about 3%. Plus it would be the first "real" evidence that there's a baby in there. Many people have told us that the pregnancy seems much more real once you hear that heart beating. Even though there was a significant amount of evidence that I was in fact pregnant (positive test, missing period, lots of symptoms and beginning to show), I really wanted this confirmation along with having my uterus felt up. (FYI, my uterus is definitely growing and is about the size of an orange right now. It's just starting to peek over my pubic bone. More FYI - my cervix looks very healthy! Woo!)
So back to the heartbeat. She warned us that it may take awhile to find, and then marveled at how she immediately found it. It was hard to identify because the Doppler machine starts whooshing the minute you turn it on. Then there are my slower pulsing sounds and the baby's faster sounds. Mostly I could just hear myself, but there was a moment when we were clearly hearing the faster rate of the baby. Then it was me I was hearing again. It all went by very fast. I wanted to go back to the baby sound, but she was already wiping my tummy off and I didn't want to be pushy. I felt kind of let down because there was no time to let the baby's rhythm sink in. She told us the rate was 160 bpm, which is smack dab in the middle of normal. I considered getting emotional for a minute, then refrained. I honestly wasn't sure if I was truly emotional or simply thought I should be.
Soon afterwards she was poking me inside and out, feeling my uterus and peering at my cervix. This was slightly uncomfortable, but no worse than an annual pap. Dirk got to witness this all for the first time, though I was draped in a paper blanket so he didn't have a bird's eye view of my healthy cervix. He did catch a glimpse of the speculum and said he got the idea of what went on. It was nice to have him there with me and didn't feel awkward. When that part was over, we talked to the midwife for quite awhile - she was very chatty and I should mention that she used loads of reassuring language throughout the appointment. She kept assuring me that everything was "picture perfect" and "textbook." I was getting an A+ in baby making so far.
The appointment was at 4:30 pm, so it had already been a long day. I had been fatigued most of the day and was experiencing some of the light-headedness that can come with pregnancy. Then add this huge (though seemingly not huge when happening so fast) moment in the doctor's office, and you have me pretty wiped out. When we left, my first task was to make phone calls to (1) my parents, (2) Dirk's parents, and (3) my sister. (I would've called you too, Tsjaz, but didn't figure you were hanging by the phone. Let me know if I was wrong! We can at least send you an "It's a girl!" or "It's a boy!" text message at our 20-wk visit.)
It was the phone calls that made me realize I really did feel overwhelmed. I told my mom that everything went well, she said she was very happy and then launched into a story about how she and my dad got hit by a flying turkey while driving that day. Of course, she was pretty excited about it and all I could think was that I was sooooooo not in that head space and must retreat immediately. I told her I had to go, and when calling Dirk's parents and my sister began with "I don't want to talk, just wanted to tell you that everything is fine..." Those calls went quickly enough. We got home, swung by the mailbox and I fished out two "First Anniversary" cards. (Our anniversary is Sunday, June 7.) Grandma wrote a particularly sweet message and that's when the tears started. We were parked in our driveway by that time; Dirk was sweet and sympathetic, asking questions I could not answer about how I was feeling. In the midst of my sobbing I realized that we should call Grandma. I was unable to talk to her though, since I was choking up, so I passed the phone on to Dirk. Grandma pulled a Mom, and segued quickly from "That's fantastic news!" to "How's your yard?" She was chatty, so Bret was on the phone for awhile while I cried it out for a bit, and wondered how Grandma could be so breezy.
Eventually we made it into the house, for a few more tears and some rest, and Facebook announcements. I came to realize that I really was pretty struck by the fact that there is a tiny heart beating somewhere in my pelvis and we REALLY ARE making a baby and I can start to actually believe in this. It was disorienting to hear about wild turkeys and yard work when all of my brain capacity was maxed out on this one concept. Of course, I can't expect other people to be as focused on this as I am - even my own mother could process it quickly. She's been there before, it's not her body, and what else did I expect to hear anyway? One thing I keep learning in this pregnancy is that until it happens to you, you really can't relate completely, and even if it did happen to you before, it's likely old news by now.
My emotions are a mix of awe, fear, joy, bewilderment, amazement and exhaustion. Given some time alone with them, I can easily bring the tears back. And yes, it really does feel more like there's a baby here with me now.
