First of all, my NT scan went great – before the scan, due
to our ages, the babies had a risk of down syndrome of about 1 in 700. Now, baby A’s risk is about 1 in 7,500, and
baby B’s is 1 in more than 10,000. So it
seems pretty safe the say that we’re in the clear! Risks for all of the other trisotomies are
way down, too. My only hope going in was
that the risk of a problem after the scan would be less than the risk of
miscarriage with an amnio so that we would know not to do the amnio, and I’m SO
happy that it worked out!
The ultrasound was a little long, but spending an hour
looking at the babies was fun – we even started to get a sense of their
personalities. Baby A is going to be our
troublemaker; no matter how much the tech jiggled my stomach, she refused to
get into the right position (at one point, the tech even thought she might be
holding her feet in her hands!), and the entire time we were looking at her
face she was opening and closing her mouth… I’m wondering if that means she’ll
be hungry, talkative, or both! Baby B,
meanwhile, was super cooperative, and even waved to us! Well, sort of… he made a hand movement that
the tech described as “saluting” us, and Henry thought looked more like he was
giving us the finger. Haha. And no, despite the fact that I assigned them
genders here, the tech would not make any guesses on sex. However, I get to go back in three weeks for
them to start checking my cervix, and she said they will most likely be able to
tell then!
This weekend I’m going on a very important shopping trip:
maternity clothes. It’s time; I pretty
much exhausted my closet finding things to wear to work this week, and I’m
doing only slightly better outside of working hours. The point that I really need maternity
clothes was really driven home this morning as I dressed for work.
I planned to wear a pair of khakis that have always been
a little too big, but I hadn’t worn in a while.
I ironed them (and I almost NEVER iron so you know I was desperate) and
proceeded to get dressed. I pulled up
the pants, tried to close them…. and a good three inches remained between the
button and the button hole. I considered
it for a second, sucked in everything that can be sucked, and just managed to
get them to close.
Great! Until I
turned around – there on my butt was the world’s most obvious panty line. And could you even sort of make out the
pattern on my underwear through the thin pants?
Yup, you could. I signed heavily,
walked over to my underwear drawer, and started searching for the pair of nude,
no-line briefs I’d bought for a wedding with a thin bridesmaid dress, all the
while wondering if I’d be able to button the pants again. No luck on the briefs, but there staring up
at me was another possible solution to my problem: my one and only thong.
I know some women love thongs, but I am not one of them;
I’ve just never been able to get comfortable.
And this was a particularly evil thong, a cheap novelty thing I got as a
gift at my bridal shower when my butt was at least a size smaller than it is
now. But, it was a light color and would
mean my ironing efforts were not in vain.
So, that’s how I ended up walking around all day with
pinching pants and a permanent wedgie from a too-small thong with the word “bride”
emblazoned across the crotch. I can’t wait to go
shopping!
