30 SECONDS {the authentic part of me that's sometimes embarrassing to share}

{17 weeks, about a week and a half ago--

i don't show. like ever. not even with my 4th baby apparently.}

...

at my last doctor's appointment my OB couldn't find a heartbeat.

my mind went through so many different emotions while he searched and searched and searched for anything other than my heart beating over his little hand held Doppler.

i knew we were getting into muddy waters when he went for the ultrasound

because HE NEVER goes for the ultrasound, except at 10 weeks to check that the baby is in the right place and the right size.

so when he put the Doppler down,

put his hand on my shoulder,

looked me straight in the eyes,

and said "i'll be back in 30 seconds. it won't be longer than 30 seconds."

it hit me.

he was scared to leave me alone.

as i laid there on my back with my stomach exposed and covered in ultrasound jelly i could feel the tears welling up in my eyes.

i thought about my friends who have had this happen to them at 17 weeks.

and all of the things i had said to help console them.

i thought about how i knew that if he couldn't find a heartbeat this would mean not only a miscarriage,

but a miscarriage requiring a full labor and delivery,

without a baby to take home for all of your hard work.

i thought about how i had just started to feel 100% healthy again.

how i hadn't puked in over a week.

and how i didn't want to walk out of this doctor's office with this kind of news today.

i kept telling myself the stats.

less than 1% chance this is happening.

less than 1% chance this is happening.

over and over and over in my head.

and that's when eric walked in,

and it just felt better to say it out loud to him.

"less than 1% chance this is happened right?"

"you got it em. let's just see what we've got here."

and then he couldn't even find A BABY.

and that's when my heart really started to race.

and i felt sick to my stomach inside.

and i was just wishing that sean was there with me.

so i just flat out told eric that i was freaking out and wasn't he freaking out too???

he's a very sarcastic guy that's always trying to pull my leg, and has been caring for me and my babies for the last 8 years.

but when he's silent, i know he's nervous. 

{like after i had to have 3 shots of adrenaline after my epidural with brennan and my blood pressure was still 60 over something low and not going up at all. i knew he was nervous then too.}

and so in his silent, calm on the surface wonderful caring state he just told me that there's a stronger ultrasound down the hall, and that we would just take me there next if we couldn't find anything here.

like this was all going to be ok, and that we were still in good shape.

except i knew he was being quiet.

and i just kept praying that this wasn't happening.

and then i felt stupid because i thought that maybe this was why i still wasn't showing.

and what a fool i had been to think i was pregnant this entire time anyway!

and then i just felt DESPERATE because my emotions and thoughts in my mind were running, running, running from i guess we don't need to finish the basement to now we're going to have to start over again except i'm 10 pounds fatter, to i just don't want to do this today.

this is embarrassing for me to admit all of this,

but THESE are exactly the thoughts that went running through my head.

i was not feeling like a very lovely person.

it's weird what you think about and where your head goes when things are scaring you.

fear just has a funny way of doing that i guess.

those moments that have the potential to change your life.

and everything you thought you were doing, you might not be doing,

and for a second you don't think you'll be strong enough to do it,

except you know there's no way around it but through.

and then all of a sudden, when i couldn't take my selfish unlovely thoughts anymore,

eric found a head.

and i have never prayed so hard for a head that was alive in my entire life.

5 minutes later, with the lights turned out, and the 4th sweep up and down the baby's tiny little body,

we saw a flickering heartbeat.

right there at the top of the chest.

and we both let out a sigh of relief at the same time.

RELIEF just doesn't quite explain it.

the only thing i remember him saying over the next ten minutes was

healthy

heartbeat

and

i'm so glad we didn't have do that today.

and then i walked out of his office in a bit of a daze and spent the next three days wondering why we couldn't find the heartbeat, why we couldn't find a baby, and did that mean there was something wrong???

was the baby not growing?

was everything going to be alright?

and i just kept trying to remind myself of those two words he said first.

healthy

heartbeat.

and then i scheduled the 18 week ultrasound i wasn't even going to do

because

I KNEW

it was a girl

FOR SURE.

and i knew that it's the ultrasound that scared me anyway,

because it's the one where they tell you everything good or bad,

and i just wasn't sure i could go through another one of those scares two weeks in a row.

so why did i need to go anyway???

well folks,

if there's one thing this 4th baby has already taught me in these short 18 weeks

it has been growing inside of this little miraculous body of mine,

it's that

I KNOW NOTHING:)

absolutely nothing.

because THAT right there is a penis folks.

A PENIS!!!

on the girl i knew SHE was going to be. 

with a healthy heartbeat

a healthy size brain

and head

and legs

and ribs

and heart

and arms

and fingers that HE waved at us with,

and a placenta in the right place,

and a belly

and a nose

and a mouth,

and everything absolutely perfect in every way.

and there i was bawling my eyes out in shock and fear.

not being lovely.

scared to have another boy.

and not for the reasons you'd expect.

for the reasons of, i typically have boys that are over 9 pounds,

cry a lot more,

and that historically speaking my body hasn't made any milk for.

and so there i was crying,

and afraid again about a set of stupidly silly things that DON'T EVEN MATTER!!!!

and 

that's 

when 

it 

hit 

me.

things that don't matter when you have all of the healthy things happening,

but things that you think about when all of the healthy things are happening,

things that you feel guilty about thinking about when all of the healthy things are happening.

because you have that luxury to worry about stupid silly things when all of the healthy things are happening.

those are a privilege to worry about.

because you have the privilege to worry again about basements,

not finding heartbeats with a Doppler,

when all of the healthy things are happening.

who's going to sleep with who,

how you're gonna need more boy clothes b/c the other two have trashed them by now,

how you're probably never going to get the little tiny girl clothes out ever again,

and how you hope your sister has a little girl, so you can at least see them on someone again.

that worrying about those silly stupid things really is a privilege.

and i'm privileged to know that.

privileged to not beat myself up that those are the things i'm worrying about.

because that means

i really have nothing to worry about at all.

the 4th baby changes all of the rules.

this is what i keep saying to people as i laugh about how i KNEW this was going to be a girl.

the 4th baby is teaching me that everything i thought was true is false.

things like "i only get sick and eat taco bell every day for 20 weeks with boys."

false.

and things like "i'm insomniac that gains 30 pounds by 20 weeks with boys."

false.

and things like "i only have easy pregnancies with girls."

false.

nope, this 4th baby is showing me that everything is unexpected.

just like it always has been.

but maybe i just didn't have the privilege of knowing it when i was going through it before.

which is turning out to be more beautiful than something that IS expected.

it's ironic.

don't you think?

and then i just couldn't wait to hold that sweet little him in my arms,

and kiss his little baby man face.

wondering what color hair he was going to have

{i had a dream two years ago that i had a black haired baby},

what i would dress him in when we brought him home from the hospital,

if he would be a thumb sucker or binky baby,

and how fat and chubby his arms and legs will be?

and also i said a prayer, hoping that he would maybe try to be 8 pounds instead of 9.

i never said i was lovely anyway;)

because this my friends is me.

the authentic part of me that is sometimes embarrassing to share.

but share i must.

because then,

i get the privilege of knowing what i'm thinking.

and there's nothing that's more of a luxury than that.