Pregnancy compliments

I love the compliments you get when you're pregnant.

I don't mean like, "Oh, you're glowing!" or "Look at your adorable belly!" and so on. Or even the ever charming "You look tired" (though who am I kidding, that's not a compliment, it's just a comment, and not a very nice one, either).

I mean the pregnancy-specific comments that would normally mean nothing to you, but suddenly matter. Like when your midwife tells you that you have a great cervix. Or your birthing instructor tells you that you have a marvelously flexible pelvis. Or the ultrasound tech tells you that you have a great baby who has already gotten himself into the perfect birthing position. And so forth.

All true compliments, by the way, received recently. And the funny thing is that they mean SO MUCH to me. Like, I am inordinately proud of my cervix--not proud of it as in like, "Oh I am awesome I do such a great job with my cervix"--because it is totally outside of my control--but I am so happy that the state of my cervix means that I am a very low risk for preterm labor. And I am very happy that my head-down, sideways-facing baby is in a good position for birth. And I am thrilled that my flexible pelvis means that I should be able to move him around as necessary during labor. And eight months ago these things would have meant nothing to me at all.

The ultrasound was yesterday, by the way, and it went great--very healthy-looking, active baby measuring right on schedule in the 59th percentile, no concerns about the kidneys whatsoever. Also, it was so cool to have an ultrasound this far along because everything was so visible and well-developed. We could see the spine, with all the vertebrae and the ribs extending out. And the femur, perfectly shaped instead of just a blurry white line. And the kidneys weren't just indistinct black dots--they were actually shaped like kidneys.

And--this was the coolest part--we could see the baby BLINKING. The tech zeroed in on his face and we could SEE the eyes opening and closing. Eyes closed--light gray eyelids. Eyes open--big dark eyes. I mean, what we were actually seeing was just the wetness of the eyes, since fluid shows up black in ultrasounds, but they LOOKED like big dark eyes. And you could see the blinking. I didn't believe it at first--I thought I was imagining things--so I said to the tech, "Is he... BLINKING?" And it must be an unusual thing to see, because the tech seemed surprised too: he said, "Um, actually... I think he is!" and then we watched for a few more moments and he definitely was. So. Cool.

I just think it's amazing that something like BLINKING can become so meaningful with a pregnancy. Our baby BLINKS. Just like every other human in the world! But it is still awesome and miraculous when you see it for yourself. Just like how every parent thinks their baby is the cutest in the world, and even if they are only of average cuteness (and let's face it, even an averagely cute baby is still really freaking adorable), the parent can't see that the kid isn't the cutest ever to exist, which is how so many thousands of average-looking baby photos get submitted to cutest baby contests and so on.

I can see why some people roll their eyes at parents like that, parents who seem to have lost their perspective entirely and can go on and on about their baby for hours and did you see how he CRAWLED? And my god he laughed SO HARD that time I sneezed! He is a GENIUS, didn't you know? And it's all perfectly normal and mundane stuff to everyone else.

But I think it's AWESOME that you, as a parent, can care so much about this stuff. That you can be so blinded by love for your child that you think every single regular little boring thing he does is amazing and new. That just looking at him, you can't fathom that anyone else would disagree that he is the cutest, most beautiful, most amazing and wonderful child ever to exist. Because it's so OBVIOUS.

It might be annoying to everyone else, but damn, I look forward to feeling that way.

(Though I do hope to keep most of the ridiculous gushing for people who care, like Torsten, rather than boring everyone in sight with it. But I make no promises.)

By the way, to people who are sick of hearing me talk about pregnancy: I wrote another post just now, about something completely unrelated to pregnancy and babies in any way, and Torsten put the kibosh on it. And he was right do so, I think. But this is what I'm left with, and so this is what you get. Funny how pregnancy goes from the big secret that you can't talk to anyone about to the one safe area that you can talk endlessly about with anyone.