'Ever heard a baby's heartbeat?' He asked Sam.
'I've heard a lamb's,' Sam said, and the doctor pressed this way and that, and we waited to hear the quick whooshes of a heartbeat, but all that came through was blank static from the walkie talkie/radio.
'Hm, let me get the bigger machine,' he said and left the room with Sam and I exchanging glances but not words. I was thinking that this man has delivered over 10,000 babies in his career, and if he's struggling to find our baby's heartbeat...I focused on waiting for a concrete result, preparing to swallow calmly whatever news would follow. Part of this process has been allowing the deep dark 'what ifs' have their time to rise and rage in my mind, offering suggestions of a lost pregnancy, a dire health problem, Sam's sudden death...I allow these stories their moment, knowing stifiling them won't kill them, and let the moment pass with the mantra that these possibilities are slim, and even if they come to pass, I will find what I need when I need it. It has always worked that way with trusting Him.
Dr. T wheeled in the proper ultrasound, charged it up and started pressing around my stomach again. There was no sound this time, just a picture, but only Dr. T and Sam could see it. Nothing. Dr. T left to get his daughter, Susanna, a Nurse Practicioner who practices with him and who according to him is quite good with the ultrasound. She and he squinted at the machine as she pressed and searched. Finally Susanna said, 'There! There's the head. And a heartbeat - 150 beats per minute.'
That was a relief! Apparently, I have a 'deep pelvis' according to Dr. T, which I'm not too sure what to think about. Little one had some room to hide for a little while - this makes me wonder if s/he will have Sam's ability to hide and be sneaky.
No movements yet that I can feel - though I wonder if I mistake little one's movements for stomach growls sometimes.
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