On Thursday, after a long, nervewracking day at the office (all 6 hours of it!), my husband and I headed to the hospital to have our baby ultrasound. I started drinking my gallons of water on our way over to the hospital. By the time my name was called, I was very anxious both to see the baby and to have the ultrasound done so that I could go to the bathroom.
It was all really easy. We walked in, I laid down on the examining table, and then the technician began to do the ultrasound. Just one baby in there, she told us right away. We were relieved. Pretty soon we could see the baby's heartbeat, and many measurements were taken. The baby had a good, strong heartbeat, right at 160, where it should be at this age. And my measurements matched up with my estimated due date, so we're right on schedule. We did get a picture of the baby, but it wiggled, so it's really a picture of a blob. My mom cried, just the same, when we sent it to them.
After the ultrasound, I called my grandmother to tell her that her 81st birthday present was in the works. The baby is due on her actual birthday, which is amazing. She is also thrilled. And we told both sets of parents to feel free to spread the news. We're probably going to stop with the number of people that know now- most of my close coworkers, all of our family, and a few close friends. We'll spread the rest of the news when we're out of the first trimester.
So now we're proudly displaying the photo of our little blob on the fridge. It's such a weird feeling to look at the picture, and know that that is inside me, and that it's our baby. Wonderful, but strange.