We had our first appointment with the midwives today and it was pretty uneventful. They were all happy to see us back, if not surprised that it was so soon. It was too early to hear the heartbeat with a Doppler, and there are no ultrasound machines at the midwives' offices, so we'll have to wait until next time.
On a positive note, she didn't feel compelled to look under the hood because I'd just had a pelvic exam in December. I go back in six weeks and I'll have my blood drawn for the quad screen, and two weeks after that we'll be able to go for our ultrasound to find out the baby's sex (and make sure it's healthy, has all it's limbs, etc.)
And, on to my other favorite topic, my first born. He's eleven whole months old to day. Eleven. Months. Old. When did that happen? Has it really been nearly a year since I pushed his slimy perfection into this world? I'm so in awe of his very living and breathing, that my husband and I MADE him. He is one part me, one part Nelson. He's becoming his own person, a little boy before my eyes.
Happy birthday, love. I'll save the rest for your birthday letter next month.