stop pressin' my belly

For my 20-week ultrasound with this baby, I let Dr. Sears talk me into bringing Joseph along. 

I was all set for Joe to "catch the excitement." Oooooooh.

And then a schedule conflict meant that Amby had to come too. 

Oh boy. 

Up until the news that Amby was coming, I had envisioned an easy-breezy 30-minute ultrasound, with Joe sitting on Sean's lap, gazing in awe at the little baby limbs and sweet baby face on the screen, captivated by the miracle of life growing in mommy's belly. 

Instead I got two squirrels crawling and jumping all over their father while my tech murmured things like, "Ah, your cervix was totally easy to find. Great."

By the time the 45-minute mark of the scan rolled around, I had not only shooed the boys back to the waiting room with their father, but had begun to endure the pressings and pushings of the tech's wand on my abdomen as she tried to shove baby into a better position. Ugh. Ouch and ugh. I was half convinced that the repeated painful presses were necessary to get yet another view of baby's stomach chambers, and half convinced that the tech was just putting me through the ringer. Eventually she got every angle required, but man, I came out of the exam room sore

At the very end, she happily remarked that now, she'd try and get a good profile view of baby's face to print for me. No thank you, all done! I took the one other view of baby's face (really just a sideways glimpse nose and little open mouth) she had managed to get earlier in the scan, and scurried to the exit. 

Sweet little baby who likes to hide his or her umbilical cord entry: I love you muchly. 

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