Want to see a freaky-deeky disembodied version of the early returns from Project Offspring? Well, here it is.
That’s my son.
At least, that’s his face, his right forearm and hand, possibly his left hand peeking out at the top, plus the innards of his developing torso with a little bit of his sternum or thoracic spine. And the placenta is apparently growing an ear.
That’s a snapshot of a 4D image that is created in slices. The technology is amazing. To get a look at our little boy’s face, the program had to carve off the front of his body, but the technician assured us that everything is “perfect”. Seriously, she said perfect probably six times during our twenty minute consultation.
It was Monday morning. Marie and I drove to Evanston to a Northwestern satellite office for the third time since we learned that she was pregnant. By the way, our experiences with Northwestern have been uniformly wonderful. Almost zero time in the waiting room. A pleasant staff. Enthusiastic, knowledgeable doctors who never seem rushed.
During our landmark Week 20 appointment, a very happy technician — she didn’t actually introduce herself, so I’ll call her Bubbles — walked us through an exhaustive and exhilarating, real-time body scan. Bubbles was a ton of fun. She has a pretty great job. She even said so. Basically she gets to introduce excited parents to their child for the first time. And — we learned later — she’s only allowed to share good news. She’s not qualified to diagnose any problems herself so our scan was nothing but joy, start to finish.
Bubbles started with the heartbeat. It was the third time Marie and I have heard it, but it blows me away every time. And now you can hear it too.
I’m not going to lie. I get a little misty every time I hear that sound. I’m strangely proud of it. There’s something primal about the relentless, determined drumbeat, like our son is willing himself into existence. On the flipside, Marie thinks it’s grotesque. It’s nothing personal. She thinks her own heartbeat is disgusting and recoils at the sight of blood. Vascular is her least favorite word. And her repulsion isn’t limited to the pulse alone. Marie is really uncomfortable with most of the goings-on of pregnancy. Last week she felt our boy’s first kick, and though it was reassuring that he’s alive and well, Marie is irritated by the lack of control over her body and revolted by the fact that something is moving and growing inside of it. To ease her mind, I introduced her to the birth scene from Alien on Tuesday morning.
After letting us listen to our boy’s heartbeat, Bubbles confirmed what most of you already presumed.
Then we watched him relax for a bit because growing is exhausting.
Then he decided to exercise.
Then he got grumpy and hit his mom.
After the thrilling scan, Bubbles printed a bunch of pictures for us, then sent us into another room to wait for our doctor. We love our doctor. The amazing Kristen Venuti deserves recognition and acclaim. She’s patient and fun and eager to answer every question we have. She’s also funny and irreverent which is totally our speed. As first-time parents, during our first appointment we had an avalanche of questions ranging from bicycling to altitude to deli meat. Dr. Venuti put our fears to rest across the board and assured us that we’ll be fine. The most memorable line was “I’ve seen mothers who do cocaine throughout their pregnancies deliver healthy children.” To be clear, the good doctor was not recommending cocaine as a prenatal vitamin. She was simply saying that the female reproductive system is extremely capable of dealing with adversity and that parents who marinate in waking fear, stoked by every horror story on the internet are likely to have a miserable experience that isn’t good for them or the baby.
We’re over the hump. It’s hard to believe, but the pregnancy is more than half over. I can’t believe how quickly it’s flown by. And every time I make that observation, Marie replies, “Bullshit.”
Talk to you next week!
So exciting to see the little guy. Love the videos!
another miracle...