Today we got to see the baby for the first time. We got to see it wiggling around, and we got to see the sweetest flashes of light. Flicker flicker flicker.
Because ultrasounds always look like a sea of static to me, the sickle/fish/bean looking squiggle on the left is the (gulp) future baby. The cheerio looking thing on the right is the yolk sac, which provides nutrients to the (gulp) future baby until the placenta takes over.
Having seen the heartbeat at 6 weeks, 5 days, the doctor told me my chance of miscarriage is now 5%. I can live with 5% much better than the odds I was previously living with.
We get one more scan in 10 days with my beloved RE. Then we’re cut loose into the wilds of OB land, with all those pregnant women, blithely confident in their body, and sure that in 6 or 7 months time they’ll meet their (gulp) baby.
I’m so…I don’t know what. I feel a lot more confident now that we’ve seen that there’s a something in there, and that something has a heartbeat. I’ve been getting progressively sicker, and threw up for the first time yesterday, so that also encourages my faith that this might…actually…work out.
And yet there’s this other part of me that is waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’ve spent over a year preparing myself for bad news over and over and over, and changing my mindset to not always assume the worst is still very much a work in progress.
Overall I’m overjoyed that we’ve made it this far. I’m cautiously optimistic that A Good Thing might come out of this, and I’ve devoted significant energy to sending out thoughts/prayers/vibes to the universe at large, saying nothing more than “please” and “thank you”.
I hope all of you get your “thank you” soon.