Extraordinary ultrasound

At this point, I visit the doc every single week. The baby has a test to pass during the ultrasound: s/he has to demonstrate breathing proficiency, display large movements (arm/leg/body) and show small movements (hand/foot/head). It's heart gets checked. It's heart rate gets checked. We spy on the stomach and lungs to watch them in action, too. 

The babe's been a champ! The first two tests were passed in 12 minutes or less. Then one week, I had an ultrasound technician that I knew (she used to be an English teacher, of all things) and we talked about what happens when your baby is sleeping and doesn't move or doesn't move enough. Here's what happens: they set an alarm on your belly to jolt the child out of dreamland. No kidding.

I thought they might actually buzz the baby at the 35 week appointment since it was, apparently, nap time. 3:00 on a Tuesday seems like a reasonable time to nap to me! 

But, we got this beautiful profile of Baby K:

No hand-in-front-of-face-to-avoid the paparazzi, this time.

 And, the technician was able to get all the measurements and images she needed. She stopped to measure something that she hadn't measured before. All I saw were several bright white lines in a tangled mess: 1.5 cm long, she reported. Hair.

The baby mullet--or skullet. Time will tell.

I didn't really think anything of it until I went to the second part of my appointment: the stress test. On my way, I showed the nurses the images and they all gathered around to look. The ooohhhed and awwwwed. (I thought to myself: you people really love your job. I mean, you look at these cryptic images all the time! I'll also admit I thought it was great to have these acquaintances be so excited about my prospective child.)

I asked, "Isn't hair kind of normal? I mean, you either have it, or you don't. I bet you see this all the time."

My favorite nurse, Fran, replied, "They don't usually measure it. It's extraordinary."

I wanted to hug her.