Pardon Me While I Squirm

I figure if you follow my blog and you were dying to know how things went today, you have probably guessed from my previous post that everything turned out just fine.  You have guessed correctly, Grasshoppah!


So let's get into how it went, shall we?


What's the first thing every woman dreads about getting an ultrasound?  Waiting with a full bladder, right?  No fricken kidding!


The appointment was at 11:00.  Tom and I arrived with my very full bladder at 10:30, spent 15 minutes finding parking spots and one another and then waddled headed in.  I hadn't been told a number of ounces to drink, just "a lot all morning" but I figured it was good to stop at, oh... 42.  Almost a Super Big Gulp, as Tom pointed out.


Not surprisingly after seeing the parking lot, the place was packed.  I asked the receptionist if I had to have a full bladder for the test.  She said I could go ahead and use the facilities because they had water available


Blessed relief.


As soon as I came out, I began refilling.  I had my own water (I'm a water snob... I know... I suck), but this time stopped after 36 ounces and hoped it was enough.  It's not like I'd peed 42 ounces, right?


NINETY minutes later, it was finally our turn... to meet with the genetic counselor.  I truly wanted to hear what she had to say, especially with my history, but I interrupted her at least once with, "Pardon me while I squirm."


Fortunately for me, I'd had genetic testing done after all the miscarriages before Corey, and I was okay.  And with the last pregnancy being chemical, Doc concluded that my risks were not greater than 2% of having a genetic abnormality.  Yay!  Even better, instead of sending us out to wait in the lobby until a tech was available, she found a room for me right away.


The ultrasound tech was about seven months pregnant, herself.  She felt my pain.  When I laid back, it looked like I was maybe two months farther along... and it hurt.  She said that laying back should make it a little better, but as soon as she saw it wasn't, she stopped everything, wiped off my belly and told me to go empty my bladder.


"I'm a woman, too, and I just can't push on you in this state."  As if she'd read my mind... or heard me telling Tom, "And she's going to push on my belly.  I'm going to die!"


The term "... like a racehorse" would be very appropriate here.


The ultrasound went very quickly and very well.  Immediately I saw the heart beating.  There was a very beautiful little baby face with a tiny little nose.  We saw his/her hand going up to the mouth.  Maybe this baby has already mastered thumbsucking.  Mad got the hang of thumb chewing around three months old, if I recall correctly.  Corey never cared one way or the other.


The important part is that I have screened negative for Down Syndrome and Trisomy 18.  I'll have more blood work in a few weeks to further rule those out, along with some other big nasties.


We got pictures, but they weren't nearly as good as the images on the screen.  Plus, Tom has them and I'll probably never see 'em again (he'll probably put them in the second drawer of the filing cabinet), otherwise I'd put one here for ya.


I go back at the end of March for the ultrasound (you know... the one where Tom has to keep his end of the bargain and we all find out if we're having a boy or a girl) and again two weeks later for an echocardiogram of the baby's heart.  Apparently these are all standard practice here in California.  So much has changed in the very few years since Mad was en utero.  With her, I ended up doing exactly the same stuff as I did with Corey, which was the AFP test to screen for Down Syndrome.  No other genetic testing at all.  I mean, I could have done the amnio with Mad, but I never would, and nothing else was offered.  I kind of like these chances to see the baby.  And now that, yet again, my fears have proved unfounded, I'm going to just deep breathe my way through the next six and a half months.