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Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Emily Rose: A Pregnancy Story, Part 4: From Blue to Pink

From Blue to Pink
Emily Rose,
Our snowless winter in Vermont was as dreary as late November, only colder. And it lingered on. I suppose it was an ideal time to be housebound. When I stared out the window and saw only the bleak and the brown, I didn’t feel guilty for existing in slippers and pajamas. 
At the time most pregnant women start to feel some relief from their first trimester symptoms (around twelve weeks), mine were at their peak. Evenings and nights were the hardest. I had trouble holding down a protein-rich meal for dinner and if I chose something light to eat instead, I would wake up in the middle of the night hungry and nauseous. Either way, I was stumbling to the bathroom at least once a day. 
I was starting to think I would never feel better. Even though I had another OB appointment coming up, I doubted the practice’s ability to help me. The first impression they made on me was a lasting one. And if they didn’t pull through and make me believe they were caring and competent enough to deliver you, Emily Rose, then I was determined to take my business elsewhere.
When the doctor (a different one than last time–THANK GOD) came into the exam room, I was surprised by his age. He was old enough for me to have faith that he knew what he was doing, but still young compared to most of the other doctors I’ve dealt with. As we chatted, I decided his age was a character strength. He could relate to a thirty-something-ish woman without coming across as unnatural. I certainly appreciated that. And since my symptoms were severe, he prescribed an anti-nausea medication and said, “You don’t have to suffer.”
I almost left the doctor’s office in tears once again, yet this time it was for a different reason.  I didn’t feel as alone as before because I had a doctor I trusted. He became an essential member of the team that would bring you, little one, into the world.
February was more endurable after that and by mid-March, winter had more or less petered out. Even though it was cool and damp on the day of our crucial, gender-determining ultrasound, I was dressed for spring and feeling optimistic. My intuition told me you were a girl, but I had my doubts too. Your father and I had reached a level of acceptance that things don’t usually go according to plan. I was ready for anything, I guess, but I was still biting my lip, hoping you were a girl from the moment the ultrasound wand made contact with my rounding stomach. 
After all the other essential parts of you were measured and photographed, there was only one thing left to find out. I tried not to move or even blink as the ultrasound technician circled and contorted the wand around. She didn’t say anything for a long time. My lower lip probably had deep trench marks by the time she said, “I’m not seeing any boy parts...”
Some parents would rather not know the gender of their baby before birth because there are so few surprises in life to enjoy. While I admire the fortitude of those who prefer to wait, I never regretted finding out early. I instantly felt more connected to you. Those flutters and tiny kicks belonged to a girl who will likely have blue eyes, wavy brown pigtails, and freckles someday. And I needed that image to hold on to because my pregnancy was about to become one wild ride.
Love,  

Mother Dearest

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