My eyes are burning. Couldn't tell you if that burn was due to the fact that I'm exhausted, or that I have had a toddler screaming and crying since I picked him up from day care, or because these hazel eyes of mine have indeed cried some tears today, or maybe it's the onions cooking on the stove. I'm going to go with the onions.
Today was yet another ultrasound. Checking on our 32nd week of pregnancy. The news, eh - could be better, but not entirely bad. I've got one hyper baby within me kicking and flipping around like crazy, all of our non stress tests have been perfect showing a very reactive baby with a steady heartbeat and little to no contractions. It's when you take me into that ultrasound room that leaves a bit of sinking feeling in my gut. Last week I felt like I had conquered the world, my baby had gone up a percentile in growth, rocking out in the 13th whopping percentile, and was 3.5 lbs, up 8 ounces from the previous week. I left the office that day with a smile on my face. Today the technician tells me my sweet babe has dropped down to the 11th percentile. Gaining 6 ounces, that my placenta has indeed grown larger and that baby was smushed down into my pelvis. Perfect heart, lungs, kidneys, brain, feet, hands, limbs, spine and gorgeous little lips. Overall baby looks good, cord is doing what it's supposed to, there is good fluid...
So why do I feel so down today? Why did I immediately get a headache? All because of a two percent drop in weight? You'd think something so seemingly tiny wouldn't cause a flood of sadness. All in all I should be happy. I guess I was hoping to hear my baby had grown into the 20th percentile and was flourishing. Instead I sit here over analyzing it all until next week when I get another ultrasound.
Here's to hoping that the sun will shine tomorrow, or my work load will disappear, or my son will take a nap at his Nana's, or my hormones will give me a break. Either way tomorrow is Friday. I think writing that alone made me smirk.
Until next time,
Peace & Love,