Everything, Nothing, and I'm a Middle Child

Those are all possible titles for this entry. None really capture the essence very well, though.

I really want to emphasize that I had an absolutely marvelous weekend. I did. I swear (see, I told you the titles aren't very good at indicating that). My family (most of it) was together to celebrate Ayyam'i'ha. We had loads of yummy food (bao, best pancakes ever), fun gift-giving, overloaded on Pinky and the Brain and gobs of superb chocolate. We partied with friends. Found out my longest-time friend (how do you say that?) is engaged - yay for her!

Sunday, my sister (with assistance) threw this fine baby of ours an "early birthday party". Wow, Mark and I were overwhelmed by all the love, support and beautiful gifts we received. Thank you to everyone who planned, coordinated, came, partied, gifted and loved. Party-goers each decorated a onesie for the little one to eventually wear. They all seriously rock. There's everything from "I (heart) M & M" to pastoral scenes to Mondrian to storybook classics.

A photo, as promised, of a sampling:

See? I had an awesome, exhausting weekend.

Then came Monday. I had two doctors appointments. An ultrasound, since all previous ultrasounds had been done in Israel, and then on to see my midwife.

Crash.

I've had a pain in my left side for a week now. Figured it was ligaments stretching in combo with the baby kicking that very region, which some of it certainly is. However, it turns out I have a VERY SMALL ovarian cyst. Not quite half a centimeter. But there all the same. "Must be monitored". Of course, I know a thing or two in tumor terminology - that's called "watchful waiting". I ain't, unfortunately, ignorant. Largely, I think I reacted so emotionally to this news because of dealing with my mother's cancer for the last year and a half. It's so likely to be benign it's ridiculous, but it's simply over the top, in my humble opinion.

Oh, and that's not even what the midwife is worried about. No. Not going to even think about it again until after I deliver the baby. Her beef? (pun intended) The baby's too small. I need more protein in my diet. Could be I just need more protein in my diet. Or it could be a problem with the placenta and if that's the case, they may want me to deliver early (as in 38 weeks, not 40 - nothing extreme).

Somehow, something with a clear and obvious solution with very few possible repercussions, such as a baby who is only in the 32nd growth percentile, is much less concerning to me than anything related to cancer, however remotely.

But today is Tuesday. Today we have other things to do. And if the weather is nice to us, we will be able to go hear our friend Dick talk about his recent trip to Ghana, which I am very much looking forward to (BWC peeps - he was part of the crew that visited Haifa after the Black Men's Gathering in Ghana).