I am grateful that after a harrowing 30 seconds (that seemed like several hours) this morning, the OB was able to locate the Penguin’s little heartbeat thumping away. I almost cried, I was so relieved (I’m sure that the OB, knowing our history, was probably pretty relieved, too). And I’m grateful that the 20-week anatomy scan (AKA the big boy/girl reveal) is in exactly 3 weeks (mark your calendars for January 3), and that I have a regular OB appointment one week after that, so I won’t have to wait quite as long this go round for an update on how things are going (and I have a week in Paris to distract me). Hopefully, by that time, I’ll be able to feel some movement, and thus will have some indicator that the Penguin is OK during the excruciatingly long four-week wait between OB appointments. (Of course, then begins an entirely different phase of paranoia about whether the Penguin is moving enough. Sigh.)
But today, that whoosh, whoosh, whoosh was the most welcome sound I could have imagined.