Marshall surprised me today by cooperating for a-n-o-t-h-e-r ultrasound.

The technician went above and beyond her call of duty today by tolerating my near endless inquisitions and request that she “make a 5 year old boy really happy by giving me some pictures to take home for him.”

The news of the day is his brain, stomach, liver, lungs, bladder, and kidneys are looking fine.  And his heart is pointing in the “normal” direction.

And he weighs an estimated 4 lbs already.

<insert minuscule victory sigh of relief>

And we saw his precious little face tucked perfectly between his hands.  It looked like a cross between “The Cherub Pose” and “The Scream” (depending on perspective.)

I personally got to thank Dr. N, the high risk ob responsible for referring us to Boston.   Without her willingness to help, it would have been even more of a fight.

Which never stops.  It’s the keeping of the mind frame simply cast in being thankful for every kick and moment we’ve spent with Marshall in the past 32 weeks and every moment we get thereafter that seems to be the hardest now as we battle this looming unknown.

I don’t know how we’ll do this but I know I won’t stop trying until I know I’m beat.