Our baby, happy to say, is doing wonderfully. We got to both see and hear the heartbeat, which was a fast 173 beats per minute! It was amazing to actually see that little heart flutter.
We got to have another picture of our little Taco, too. It's upside down -- the head is at the bottom and the round thing at the top is the yolk sac. It's heart is on the right side in the middle.
In less than 48 hours is Thanksgiving, and all our family will know. Giddyness upon giddyness.
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But now comes, what was to me, the unexpected kicker. We were going over my progress, upcoming tests, and other such. My OB mentioned my blood work was normal, then she says, "Oh, and you have O positive blood; didn't know if you knew that, but thought I'd tell you."
BOOM.
I'm sure the look on my face was of utter shock as I said, "What? No, I'm A positive."
She double-checked her papers but that's what the lab tests showed. She asked how I knew and I replied they tested me when I was a baby. It's written down in my baby book.
This knowledge has really blown my mind. I always closely identified myself with my blood type. I'm not quite sure why; the only explanation I can think of is because of the science-y/genetic aspect of it. In school, I was always proud that I knew my blood type -- a lot of my classmates did not. We used blood types as an example when learning the Punett square technique of genetic probability, and I found it fascinating.
Apparently I didn't know what I thought I knew.
How could they have mis-typed my blood when I was born? Did they even really test it or just assume since both my parents were A positive that I would be, too? Surely not. I'm just astounded. I can't WAIT to talk to my parents about this.
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