I’ve taken to calling this baby “Doodlebug” – something about the way she (or he) skitters and scoots around in there always makes me want to ask her (or him) “What are you DOING in there…” and for some reason, the next thing out of my mouth is always, “…Doodlebug?”
Today I headed over the river and into the city to meet another of the midwives at our practice. So far I’ve hit it off just fine with both the ladies I’ve met. They are the youngest, newest-to-the-group, and seem to be very non-medical – which is exactly what I want this time around. We chatted for a while about the policies at the hospital where I’ll be delivering and I was really pleased to hear that it’s very different from South Florida, where Smooch was born.
At the end of my visit, she felt my belly (which is about 7 cm too big for my 15 weeks’ gestation, but apparently I just have a wacky, exuberant uterus) and hauled out the Doppler to listen for a heartbeat. At my last appointment, the other midwife tried but couldn’t find one – so I’ve spent the last four weeks repeating a mantra that “everything is fine, the baby was just too close to the placenta.” As she squirted that cold blue jelly on my tummy, I prayed a little prayer and tried to do a little Mommy ESP to command Doodlebug to cooperate. S/he cavorted across my belly, with the poor midwife racing the wand back and forth, trying to capture more than a beat or two in succession. Finally we got a good lock and I heard that beautiful woosh, woosh music of a strong, fast (155 bpm) heartbeat.
I left patting my doodlebump of a too-big belly with a big smile – good news about the hospital environment, good news of a healthy heartbeat, and an appointment in about 5 weeks for an anatomy scan. (I’m still feeling strong hunches that Doodle’s a girl – anyone wanna bet me?)