In just two days we get to have another look at little Fitz.
Hopefully little Fitz will actually be twice-as-big-as-the-last-time Fitz, we are looking for a whole extra centimetre growth.
It might not seem much to most of us out here, but that is a doubling in size within a week and a half, something even Kirstie Alley would be impressed with.
"Why so many ultrasounds?" I hear you cry, or briefly wonder at least.
We're special. That's why.
We are still under the care of the infertility clinic at the hospital, and they like to check twice that everything looks okay. The second of those checks is Wednesday.
After which, all going well, they gently pick us up in their cupped hands, taking care not to squash us, walk to the open window, and let us fly off on our own.
Pregnant and in the wild, looking for assistance.
As much as we didn't want to be there in the first place, as much as we failed to get any hint of a personal touch from 90% of the people we encountered there, and as much as it will be fantastic to be able to go about a 'normal' pregnancy, it will be a little sad to leave them behind.
No amount of relaxing, holidaying, God, well wishing, or pagan rock fornication worked, nor ever would. They made this happen. Medical professionals & medical procedures that we are very grateful to have had access to.
With our backs to that door, we will have a shed load of things to arrange, from finding and having a first consult with a midwife, to begging our respective employers not to fire us for wanting parental leave, to raising the bloody bed to a health & safety accepted height for any nurse visits.
Trust me, from what I've learned so far, squeezing a little Fitz out of ET's nether regions and into the Netherlands is going to be eventful.