Our Little Ninja
Every four weeks, I get an ultrasound of our little guy. This is not typical, even in Germany, but apparently the blood flow to my uterus is a little on the low side, so they want to check-in from time to time to make sure he's growing enough. It turns out he is; in the four weeks I spent in the States, he more than doubled in size! I know these measurements are not super accurate, but they have him at nearly 3 pounds already, so nobody's really worried about this blood-flow business :)
Still, they have to get a doppler measurement of the blood flow, and they need to get a sufficiently long series of uninterrupted waves across the screen so that they can do a printout for their records. Yesterday, this was problematic. The doctor had the doppler pressed against my side, and the waves were flashing across the screen, but she kept sort of sighing, fidgeting, or chuckling and clearing the screen to try again. Finally, after a few minutes, she let out this exasperating groan. "He just keeps kicking!" she said. "There's nothing wrong with the baby, and I can see that this measurement is fine, but I really need a printout and he keeps kicking the doppler! He doesn't like it."
Now, at this point I need to pause and apologize to our faithful reader and friend Matt Traut. Matt doesn't believe in ascribing intentional states to babies before they get a grip on the whole language business; he's fallen for this particular pitfall of contemporary analytic philosophy and will not be dissuaded. Nevertheless, I have to tell you the doctor was right. He really doesn't seem to like being poked, pressed, or otherwise cramped. (Or he loves it, and thinks it's a game to kick back--you choose :) When I try to sit with my arms on my belly, like when I'm reading, he kicks my arm over and over again until I move it. If Michael lays his arm across my stomach or side, same thing--the persistent internal punching. So I was not surprised when he attacked the doppler, but I was impressed that he was able to disrupt the whole process so well at his age. After that, it got even more difficult for a while because not only was he kicking, but I was laughing--neither of which helped. Still, in the end she got the reading she needed and he got a little workout.
When she finished taking his measurements, I asked if we could see his face. (Because they do these so regularly now, they're rather perfunctory--faces, after all, don't really need to be measured like skulls and femurs do.) She tried, but the best we could get was a half-profile of sorts. Still, it was totally worth it because he was sucking his thumb! That was really incredible to see. It's very fun to think of him in there hanging-out, sucking his thumb, and attacking would-be crampers of his space.
So there you have it. A totally self-indulgent pregnancy post. And I don't even have a picture to share! I will post a new pregnancy profile soon, but I really didn't feel like having my picture taken this evening so that will have to wait.
Instead, I will post a great picture from our visit with my family. Yesterday was my brother-in-law Will's birthday, so this is sort of a happy birthday post, but also just a picture I'd like to share. I'm not sure I know anyone who laughs as hard, or as contagiously, as Will does.
It's awesome. There is nothing quite so satisfying as making Will laugh, and we all try to do it whenever possible.
Michael took the cake this time. There's this dirty joke involving poor English to Japanese translation and the Purdue Chicken slogan. (Some of you surely know the joke; the rest are on your own. I will not repeat it here.) Michael, out of the blue, decided to share this joke with Will. The result can be seen in the picture above. I will have you know that Michael told this joke well within earshot of my mother, which scandalized me but seemed to make her laugh (which further scandalized me.) In any case, I leave you with the photo.
Happy Birthday Will!
Every four weeks, I get an ultrasound of our little guy. This is not typical, even in Germany, but apparently the blood flow to my uterus is a little on the low side, so they want to check-in from time to time to make sure he's growing enough. It turns out he is; in the four weeks I spent in the States, he more than doubled in size! I know these measurements are not super accurate, but they have him at nearly 3 pounds already, so nobody's really worried about this blood-flow business :)
Still, they have to get a doppler measurement of the blood flow, and they need to get a sufficiently long series of uninterrupted waves across the screen so that they can do a printout for their records. Yesterday, this was problematic. The doctor had the doppler pressed against my side, and the waves were flashing across the screen, but she kept sort of sighing, fidgeting, or chuckling and clearing the screen to try again. Finally, after a few minutes, she let out this exasperating groan. "He just keeps kicking!" she said. "There's nothing wrong with the baby, and I can see that this measurement is fine, but I really need a printout and he keeps kicking the doppler! He doesn't like it."
Now, at this point I need to pause and apologize to our faithful reader and friend Matt Traut. Matt doesn't believe in ascribing intentional states to babies before they get a grip on the whole language business; he's fallen for this particular pitfall of contemporary analytic philosophy and will not be dissuaded. Nevertheless, I have to tell you the doctor was right. He really doesn't seem to like being poked, pressed, or otherwise cramped. (Or he loves it, and thinks it's a game to kick back--you choose :) When I try to sit with my arms on my belly, like when I'm reading, he kicks my arm over and over again until I move it. If Michael lays his arm across my stomach or side, same thing--the persistent internal punching. So I was not surprised when he attacked the doppler, but I was impressed that he was able to disrupt the whole process so well at his age. After that, it got even more difficult for a while because not only was he kicking, but I was laughing--neither of which helped. Still, in the end she got the reading she needed and he got a little workout.
When she finished taking his measurements, I asked if we could see his face. (Because they do these so regularly now, they're rather perfunctory--faces, after all, don't really need to be measured like skulls and femurs do.) She tried, but the best we could get was a half-profile of sorts. Still, it was totally worth it because he was sucking his thumb! That was really incredible to see. It's very fun to think of him in there hanging-out, sucking his thumb, and attacking would-be crampers of his space.
So there you have it. A totally self-indulgent pregnancy post. And I don't even have a picture to share! I will post a new pregnancy profile soon, but I really didn't feel like having my picture taken this evening so that will have to wait.
Instead, I will post a great picture from our visit with my family. Yesterday was my brother-in-law Will's birthday, so this is sort of a happy birthday post, but also just a picture I'd like to share. I'm not sure I know anyone who laughs as hard, or as contagiously, as Will does.
It's awesome. There is nothing quite so satisfying as making Will laugh, and we all try to do it whenever possible.Michael took the cake this time. There's this dirty joke involving poor English to Japanese translation and the Purdue Chicken slogan. (Some of you surely know the joke; the rest are on your own. I will not repeat it here.) Michael, out of the blue, decided to share this joke with Will. The result can be seen in the picture above. I will have you know that Michael told this joke well within earshot of my mother, which scandalized me but seemed to make her laugh (which further scandalized me.) In any case, I leave you with the photo.
Happy Birthday Will!
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