The "regular" doctor

We had an appointment with our OB last week. I don't know what I wanted to gain from the appointment. I'm grateful we had it, because it meant he was still our doctor. It meant we didn't need to deliver at the U. It meant we didn't need to be next door to the surgeon. I don't know what I wanted it to be, I don't know if it gave me every piece of knowledge I needed to tide me over. I just know that we had it and it was fine. And, fine is fine. No one can complain about fine.

Casey and I met at the doctors office as usual. Our doctor was on time as per usual. I peed in a cup as per usual. I stood on the scale. I had my blood pressure checked. Before the appointment I said, I want him to measure his head and I don't want him to measure his head.

I wanted him to, because I wanted a 12. I needed to hear the reassurance from someone else that we had a good measurement. I didn't want him to because I didn't want any other number and I don't know what I would do waiting for the next appointment with another number in my head.

I didn't want him to because I wanted him to be confident that it's an unnecessary measurement. And, I don't know if I want to know.

First, I said I would ask him to. Then I decided I wouldn't. Because it doesn't matter. It doesn't change how much I love him. It won't change my prayer. It won't change God's plan. And, it won't change my thoughts every minute from now until he's born.

He didn't measure, and I didn't ask.

We did get an ultrasound. His heart looks good. His head measures fine. He didn't measure ventricles. Myers had his hand in front of his face. I'm not supposed to say this, but the picture we got makes him look like a frog. Casey disagrees and doesn't think I should say my kid looks like a frog. It's just because his hand is moving in front of him.

Our doctor asked how the specialist went. We told him we've been twice. He was satisfied with the "mild" diagnosis. Casey mentioned he liked our second appointment better than our first. He said it in a very polite way. He asked if we had any questions. We have none. I have had questions at every appointment. Silly things, important things. I had a list for the specialist. But at this appointment, I had none. I don't care whether or not I have him completely natural. I don't care if I have to be started or if I have a c-section. It's all just a process to get him here. And, I don't care anymore. I just want him to get here.

It was a fine appointment. It was a normal appointment. It was enough to tide me over. It just wasn't enough to tide me over for long enough. Our next appointment with the specialist is weeks away. I'm grateful they were confident enough to schedule it out that far. The anticipation just builds. I'm not counting down for Thanksgiving or until when Granny comes again. I'm only counting down to that appointment. I'll have another "normal" appointment before then to tide me over, I guess. But I only want this appointment. If they can tell me 12 again, I'd like to say I'll be fine the rest of the time. I'll be patient until he comes. But, that would be a lie. I'll want to know everyday until he comes. I'll want to know again once he comes. But for now, I'm going to try to be good with fine. I'm going to remember that I have no control. I'll remember how much my Heavenly Father loves me. I'll know how much he loves Myers. And, I'll know that every time I get nervous or need a number He is there. And, fine is the perfect answer. I'll be more than grateful for fine appointments. And, I'll prepare for this perfect little boy.