Oh Brother

Today I had another ultrasound. Saw another chubby baby leg, her FACE, and hair, lots of it.

Matthew and Mike were there too - long story, Mike is driving me around right now which is a pain for him but was fun for us, since he can't usually join me for these.

And Matthew - I was all waiting for this magical moment of him realizing that's his sister on the TV, realizing it's a baby, anything. But what big brother said was "oh, FISHIES!" and ran toward this moving fish nightlight on the other side of the room.

He did show a modest interest at first, identifying my new daughter on screen as "Baby Amelia" which would be Kim and Mark's six week old baby girl. So he does get the idea...even if he didn't grasp today as the momentous event it was. That I did. It was the first time all four of us were together and "hanging out" if you will as new family of four.

And then my little happy maternity bubble was burst when they told me I am now going for weekly monitoring. Like EVERY WEEK. Even though my b.p, her weight, my fluid, you name it, are FINE, they are STILL being like, REALLY cautious and wanting weekly non-stress test and fluid monitoring. Of me. Out in Chesterfield. Where I DO NOT WORK NEAR.

Now, I realize the most important thing is the baby and of course I will go. But really people, I am a bit confused. Last time with Matthew, I was walking around on two hippos for ankles, and we didn't do any of this. My B.P. was also high and p.s. I was a giant giant whale.

This time I'm healthier, smaller and not swelled or at least, hardly at all. And yet I think they'd prefer I take up residence in the Fetal Medicine unit.

Somehow my diagnosis with Matthew went from "borderline pre-eclampsia" at his birth, to "you had pre-eclampsia" when I started the baby girl's appointments. To today some new high risk doc I hadn't seen before started a sentence, "when you see severe pre-eclampsia with the first pregnancy, we want to watch it really closely again..."

Now my pride at not wanting to look like a bad mother kicked in and I didn't correct/argue with him. Also he's the one holding my chart. But really - when did I go from "maybe" to "severe"? Me thinks me smells some guilt and "bullet dodged" from last time? Did they let stuff get a bit out of hand with Matthew and not realize until he arrived safely, thank God? It's weird, I just don't get it.

Mike and I don't want to be the parents that protest too much healthcare but ... seriously, wouldn't some nice kick counts and home B.P. monitoring do just fine?

Oh well, seven more weeks and she'll be here, and I can complain to her in person about the trouble she's caused me. Of course, that's if I can get past fawning over her BIG CHUBBY CHEEKS which we could see in the ultrasound today and which made me realize she sho is my duaghter.