A fine line exists between alarmism and caution.

This child is messing with us. Evidently, the payback for our own youthful indiscretions has begun.

Everything's fine, but we're starting to realize that so much of this is just out of our control. Without treading too far into the realm of Too Much Information, suffice it to say that nothing stops a pregnant woman cold like the appearance of a bit of blood. Again, everything's fine, but it took a trip to the ER, a weekend of bedrest, and a follow-up with the OB to alleviate our concerns. We should have known that there was nothing to worry about, however, when one of the ultrasounds on Friday night showed a very clear picture of Speck turned away from the camera, mooning us. Laugh it up, kiddo. Hardee har har har.

It's very easy to say that what's meant to be will be. A very good friend of mine told me not to hesitate to call a doctor if Something was happening, and even after we did, we were still so unsure of what to do next. There were times this weekend when I just wished that I could get a snapshot of a moment in the future that would show me how this would be turning out. Not knowing what's normal, not being able to help or prevent the inevitable, questioning whether we overreacted (we don't think we did) by going to the ER... all we really do know is that this is probably only the beginning of more moments when we'll look at each other and go "OK, what now?".

But the kid's got a sense of humor. Next time, we moon back.