On the 4th, Taz and I visited our new family doctor for the first time for a "meet and greet". There were a bunch of questions about our family health histories, and a few pieces of paper to sign-the usual process, I guess. She asked me the date of the start of my last period, and I told her Oct. 4th. She did some calculating on a funky month spinning wheel contraption, and told me my due date was July 15th, which was two days later than the date I had been told by the last ultrasound technician, but I figured that was an acceptable amount of error.
Towards the end of the meeting, while we were discussing an appointment for a first physical, the subject of prenatal tests came up. I asked her about integrated prenatal screening, and when my ultrasound for my Nuchal Translucency Test would be scheduled. For those of you thinking "Nuchal trans-what-the heck?", it is basically a measurement of the skin fold on the back of the baby's neck, done via ultrasound. The results, combined with 2 separate blood tests (one between 11-14 weeks, and one between 15-20 weeks) are used to calculate the likely risk of the baby having Downs Syndrome. This integrated test was appealing to me because it had a much lower false positive rate than simply a blood test between 15-20 weeks: 2% vs 8%. False positives result in women undergoing an amniocentesis where none is necessary, and this is an invasive procedure with a slight risk of miscarriage that I wanted to avoid.
Simply put, I wanted the two-step approach. I expected it. So imagine my surprise when the doctor shook her head, and told me I was too far along to have the NT ultrasound. She gave a cursory glance at her spinning wheel, and told me I was going to be 14 weeks by the next day, and by that point it would be too late to have the ultrasound. I didn't think that sounded quite right. In fact, I was pretty sure I was only 12 weeks, 4 days at that point. Nevertheless, I took her calculation to be correct, and resigned myself to the fact that it would be another 8 weeks or so until I would see Bean again on a computer screen. We signed some more paperwork, including what was necessary to have my other ultrasound results forwarded, and went home.
2 days passed. The more I thought about it, and went over my calendar and journal notes, the more convinced I became that the doctor was wrong. So on the 6th, I called the doctor's office, and tried to reach my numerically challenged lady in the lab coat. The receptionist put me on hold after hearing my spiel about dates and scans, and was back on in I swear less than a minute. SHE told me that she had just looked at my ultrasound results from Kingston General Hospital, and since I was going to be 13 weeks, 6 days the very next day, (the 7th) it was too late to schedule an ultrasound. Then she wished me a brisk good day and hung up.
I sat there staring at the phone, confused. How could I go from being 14 weeks on the 5th of January, to 13 weeks, 6 days on the 7th, and yet according to my period, only possibly be as far along as 12 weeks, 6 days?? Just as I was reaching for my calendar yet again to see if maybe I double counted a week or something, my phone rang. It was the doctor herself. Turns out both her and the receptionist were "mistaken" and I was actually only 12 weeks, 2 days, and could I make an ultrasound appointment for today, in about 2 hours? I was too thrilled by the idea of seeing what Bean looked like to formulate a snarky comment about how easy it must be to mix up the numbers 12 and 14, what with all those years of high level education, and when she appologized, it hardly registered. I was going to get to see my baby!!
The ultrasound brought with it a range of emotions I was not expecting. Taz sat beside me, and laughed excitedly from the moment the image wavered into focus, until the last picture had been measured, 10 minutes later. He kept saying "look at that!" "look, its jumping" "look how much its moving around". Like I was watching anything else. :) I couldn't believe this life was, is, inside me. Growing every day. It took my breath away.
Here are my two favourite photos from the ultrasound. They are basically the same position, I know, but in one, Bean is a little scrunched, and in the other, its all a bit blurry. I'm trying to get the best of both worlds. Hard when your little one is performing amniotic aerobics in there! Every night since the ultrasound, I take these photos out and spend a few minutes studying them. Maternal biases be damned, they are the most beautiful things I have ever seen!
So there's my lesson for this week! If I hadn't trusted my gut feeling, I wouldn't have these cherished photos, or the memory of bawling my eyes out happily on a scanning table. I might have had to have an amniocentisis later on, even! Trust your heart ladies! Trust it more than a spinny cardboard wheel.
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