My most recent ultrasound revealed not only Baby Boy #5, but also what the doctors believe is truly going on in there. The baby is healthy and free from any kind of entanglement, which was the worry at my previous ultrasound. The latest word is that I have this:

Synechiae:

(also known as “amniotic sheets” or “amniotic folds”)

A synechia is a term meaning an “adhesion”, or a fibrous scar. Uterine synechiae have also been referred to as “amniotic sheets” or “amniotic folds”. Many patients with sonographically demonstrable uterine synechia have clinical history of uterine instrumentation (voluntary termination, D&C) or uterine infections to explain scar formation. However, it is not unusual to encounter patients with a synechia in whom any relevant past history is lacking. Most commonly, uterine synechiae are noted as an incidental finding on obstetric sonograms. In general, synechiae do not interfere with the development and growth of pregnancy, and are rarely associated with any complications. There is some evidence to suggest that large synechiae may be the cause of malpresentation due to partial compartmentalization of the uterine cavity, and may also be associated with lower birth weight. Visualization of a band-like structure should not be confused with amniotic band syndrome especially when thorough fetal anatomy survey reveals no structural anomalies.

link here.

Because I’ve had three D&Cs and one c-section, it is no surprise I have scarring. I have another ultrasound scheduled in five weeks. The scarring has caused a small “corner” of the placenta to attach like a finger to another part of my uterine wall. If you click on the link, you’ll see ultrasound photos of what this looks like.

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I have been feeling the baby move for several weeks. First, the flooping and the sensation of an internal blush. Then came more insistent taps no stronger than a flick of a bunny’s ear. The movements have grown stronger, but I hadn’t been able to feel the baby with my hand until very early in the morning, this past Saturday. The moment came in the form of three little knocks

I love feeling the baby, but of course I can find a way to worry about this delightful gift. If it’s been too long between our little communications, I begin obsessing. I am still at the point where the baby is small and unreliable. You’d never ask him to collect your mail and feed your dog while you go on vacation. But I ask for small thumps and teeny high fives through my too-thick layer of tummy-padding, constantly. When it doesn’t meet my standards, I am miserable. The baby can’t grow without extended periods of rest, so I should take spans of quiet as signs he is working on building bones and perfecting dimples. I’m not even 20 weeks yet, but I expect him to act like a 30-weeker who shakes tummies and entertains crowds.

I still have my doppler, but I don’t want to overuse it. When I am tempted to drag it out, I try all the get-baby-to-move tricks. One little flutter is enough to satisfy me. Sometimes.

It could be gas.

Me Gretchen and me no sleep.

Wakin’ in middle of night make me mad. An sad, too. Eyes get open and don’t close again for hours. I look at clock. It have red letters. Oh wait, dey might me numbers? I don’t know. Outside it so dark and da bugs are LOUD and I hate dem. I think about window. I can close, but I get out of bed to do that. No close window with awesome power of mind. An if I get out of bed, must put peeps in da potty. No flush. Wake others. Then all hopeless and fertile. Or feudal? Futile? Me have no idea.

Get up cause bed as restful and nice and smart as big bag of dirty diapers. Don’t want to be in it nudder minute or day. Go downstairs. Stupid stair squeaks might wake kids. Hope not. Don’t need company now. Just want relax! Why no relax?

Turn on computer. Know it will be boring. Internet boring. Or maybe I find sad, sad story and cry. Always happen. Then worry, a lot. What if I have brain tumor in elbow too? Could happen. Been sore lately. Okay. Internet really dumb now.

TV help? Push button wif remote. What on? Didn’t know could buy toys for grownups at 2am. That kind of gross to call stranger and say send me dat, here credit card number and address. Fresh Prince Bel Air on too. Again. Dat Will Smiff talented guy, even when haircut look like wedge of cheese. Go kitchen, get some cheese. Come back. Maybe watch videos on MTV. Weep for youth. Maybe watch videos on VH-1 Classic? Weep for lost youth. Dose days were when I no need sleep. Ha! I took for granted.

Now I disgusted, but little tired. Get drink water. Check locks on doors. Still locked. Turn off light. Go back upstairs. Eyes not used to dark. Kick toe into bed, of course. It only been dere for three years, not enuff time for clue? So I get back in my bed an pull covers up over shoulder. Still worry. Brain still thinkin of everything possible in universe, all at once.

Suddenly, feel baby kick hand. First time. It so good. I realize what been bugging me, really. I say prayer.

Asleep.

Wake up, not able to think. Get up anyway cause dog outside barkin and kids loud downstairs. Thoughts still fuzzy. Will be long day, but happy day.

Maybe sleep tonight?