34 Weeks

Yesterday marked 34 weeks for the ol' Turnip and me and this morning we celebrated by having our final ultrasound check up. This is our 4th in total. We've had so many because early on the little guy showed some evidence of potential kidney problems that would need to be addressed soon after his birth, so we were following his development more closely than usual.

This morning, his kidneys looked great! He grew into the dilation like a champ, so now both kidneys are the same size and within normal limits. It was also nice to see some of the reassuring things again, like the skin overlying his spinal cord, his four chambered heart beating regularly at 150 beats per minutes, and the blackness of his stomach indicating that he's swallowing properly and that all of the necessary structures are connected. It's the little things, really. He's growing well, above average, actually. He's measuring at about 36 weeks, with an estimated weight of 6 pounds and 2 ounces, and has a Giant Noggin. This is the stuff that nightmares are made of. Patrick proudly claimed the Giant Noggin as his own genetic gift and then I killed him right there in the ultrasound room. You know, in my imagination.

And then there were the BIG things that we saw. I almost don't want to tell you because I already feel like I've spoiled a big surprise by seeing it myself. But, like any good secret, it's too good to keep quiet.

HE HAS A HEAD FULL OF HAIR!

The tech said, "Ooh! Look at all that hair!" as she pointed to a bunch of white smudges on the screen. "Do you see it?" We squinted a bit, cocked our heads to one side, and chewed on our lips, but still had no idea what she was looking at. "Could you be more specific?" "Right here! All this wispy, spiky stuff. That's his hair floating in the amniotic fluid!" I was speechless, which is uncommon.

Even better than that: we saw a clear cut picture of his face. His little perfectly formed, person-looking face. I felt like a cheater by having seen all of this, and it made me giggle so much that he moved away from the ultrasound beam and out of sight, as if he found out we were looking and hid. Sneaky bugger.

At the very end he stuck up his hand and opened and closed it a few times like he was waving at us. Like he was saying that he'd see us soon but not yet and to quit peeking. We'll have the rest of our lives to look at each other, so let's enjoy the solitude while we've got it, yes? Wise beyond his... weeks.

After this morning, after seeing all of this, for the first time I am suddenly dying to meet him in person.

6 more weeks.