Mini-Meek (the sequel)

Finally!  A few pictures of Miss. or Mr. Mini-Meek. 

We had our 2nd trimester ultrasound today - highly anticipated by most parent's-to-be, due to the big gender news usually given at this time.  Tempting as it was, we restrained ourselves -- and will hold out for the gender surprise in March.  We had a nice long ultrasound today, baby was pretty cooperative eventually.  Mini-Meek is estimated at about 12 ounces right now (funny, I've gained more than 12 ounces...) and is lying "transverse" (sideways, the head is at one side of my hip, and the rump is at the other hip) at the moment.  Not a huge concern at all, we have plenty of time for him/her to shift into delivery position.  Annabelle was excited to see "her baby in Mommy's tummy" on the big screen today, and pretty much sang and talked through the entire visit.

Follow up appointment after the ultrasound showed that we have an EIF (echogenic intracardiac focus).  Because, here at the Meek family production facility, we never do anything simply ;)

Aside from being a string of big unfamiliar words, an echogenic intracardiac focus is:  a small bright spot seen on the baby's heart during an ultrasound.

This means one of two things:

1)  Absolutely nothing.  (very likely)

2)  This EIF could be a marker for a chromosomal issue like Downs Syndrome or one of the other Trisomys (highly unlikely)

Soooo...we will be sent for a longer and fancier ultrasound in the next week or two to determine if there are other "soft markers" pointing towards an issue, or if this EIF is an isolated incidence and meaningless.  (Apparently this is pretty common, roughly 10% of pregnancies show an EIF with no actual fetal complications.)

We had something similar to this when Annabelle was still in the oven.  We were worried sick, did extra testing, amniocentesis etc.  All tests proved negative and she was given a clean bill of health -- and then at birth, we discovered galactosemia.  So as the doctor sat with her hands wringing today, waiting to see how I'd take the news of a possible complication (small chance that it is) -- telling me "not to worry, and please, don't go home and google echogenic intracardiac focus..." (like I ever wouldn't?  -- I had to at least figure out how to spell it.)  I calmly told her it was fine.  The first time around, it wasn't fine.  I wanted everything to be "perfect" - but now I know, we have no control over these things. (I know some of you didn't take as long to learn this, I'm not good with acceptance ;)  But Annie has taught us SO much.  I look at her and I don't see galactosemia, I see a barely two year old who can read, make wise cracks on her own, and sing like nobody's bussiness.  My little girl who just as easily reaches up desperately saying "Mommy holdjya" (hold me) as she does saying "I do it!", "Mommy go away, I do it" -- She's smart, she's loving, she's funny, she's capable and she's just fine just as she is.  As will her brother or sister be, just as they are.  So bring on the extra ultrasounds, I rather like the chance to lay down in a dark quiet room and get an extra glimpse at our new baby.