Sorry about the lack of a post yesterday, my pumpkin, things, as you will soon discover, began working against us.
Yesterday morning promptly at 830am (15 minutes early), we presented ourselves at the desk of the fine and lovely Dr Pete. Dr Pete, you'll be pleased to know, pumpkin, is your obstetrician, or rather ours. After a short initial consultation, in which Dr Pete outlined a couple of things in the increasingly complex series of 'things we must know', your mum told him about some pain she'd been having.
It turns out that the illustrious Dr Pete is every bit as calm and professional as we'd been led to believe. While making sure that we weren't too alarmed, he picked up the phone and muscled us in to an appointment at the ultrasound place down the road. Dr Pete, my pumpkin, was worried that you had taken up residence on the Wrong Side of Town.
After a leisurely breakfast on Lygon Street, and a couple of phone calls to respective places of employment, we were on our way to the ultrasound clinic for what is technically called a "viability and location" scan.
Your mother, after a wait that was probably brief, but to my by now fairly stressed out skull seemed to take about nine hours, was told to change into a gorgeous pink muumuu style gown, and we were off.
The lovely ultrasound technician, Maria, made sure that we were comfortable and then proceeded to take some pictures of you and your surroundings to make sure that everything was ok. It turns out that we had very little to worry about. Your place of residence for the next eight months or so is exactly where it should be, and there's a picture of it over there on the left if you want to click on it to see it properly. The big dark region is called your "gestational sac", and the small white circle within it is your "yolk sac". You're in there somewhere, but you're too tiny for us to see yet.
We can't wait.
Love you, pumpkin
