Actually, two days.
This morning, before I started working, I hopped on the bed with the Doppler Monitor (which sounds a lot kinkier than it really is) to see if I could find the baby's heartbeat again. Within minutes, I heard it strong, clear and fast. I couldn't count it because I didn't have a watch. But I could tell it was a lot faster than mine.
Tonight, when Dave came home, I was able to find it again, pretty easily. And together we counted up that the heartbeat was between 168 and 180.
Do you have any idea how relieved I am and how reassurng that heartbeat is? I didn't have any idea how anxious I was until I could let myself feel relieved by that sound. I don't plan on using it every night to check the baby's heartbeat. But after two miscarriages, the sound of that clicky-clicky-clicky-clicky is one of most relaxing quick paced sounds I've ever heard.
On to the Anita School of Parenting
Daddy: Conor, put on your clothes. You can't go to school in your pajamas.
Mommy (opting per usual for the easy way out): Let him wear his pajamas.
Daddy: He needs to at least wear his jeans. He can wear his pajama top.
Mommy: He should wear his pajamas to school. If all the other kids laugh at him, he won't want to wear his pajamas to school again. (I have no doubt I picked up that advice from John Rosemond, and I'm sure you know I'm not his biggest fan)
Daddy (looking at Mommy and counting up the dollars spent on counseling for their poor son later): He's going to wear his jeans.
Yeah. Thank God(dess) Conor has Dave in his life. Otherwise, it's possible he'd how up at school buck naked if that's the fight we were having.