34 Week Ultrasound Photos

Three photos from my 34 week ultrasound on Tuesday. (Now that I've been diagnosed with gestational diabetes, they're going to be monitoring me more closely-- which means more ultrasounds.) I would swear the middle picture looks like a miniature Jay. But maybe that's just my pregnant imagination.

20 Week Ultrasound (20w1d)

The ultrasound went beautifully and everything looks perfect! Despite being late to the appointment (hmph), we didn't have to wait long to be seen. Baby was very active, which made it very easy for the ultrasound technician to take measurements. Because he was so cooperative ("photogenic," the tech said) we were in and out in less than thirty minutes.

It's funny that I could only feel about half of the actual movements he was making. I don't suppose that will be true much longer. I already feel like I'm so much bigger than I was a week ago, but baby is weighing in at a very healthy 13 ounces, so I'm not too concerned about looking like a beach ball this early. After all the data was plugged in, the computer gave us a due date of December 6, which is only three days off from my original December 9 due date.

The technician said all of the organs and the umbilical cord looked good. We could see the four chambers of his heart pumping normally, his developing brain and his long, straight spine. Oh, and we could also easily see his penis, but just in case there was any doubt he's a boy, the tech sent us home with two pictures of the equipment.

My fibroids seem to be staying out of the way of anything important and I'm still hoping for a vaginal delivery (drug free!). I have a few more months before I'll know if that will be possible.

Unfortunately, we didn't get a profile picture this time as baby seems to prefer the forward-facing position. But I still think this is a pretty terrific picture:


When turned right side up, I think he has Jay's jaw line:


I don't know when I will have another ultrasound, but I couldn't have asked for a better experience this time around. It's so nice-- and such a relief-- to be told everything looks perfect.

Twenty weeks down, twenty more to go!

The Tale of CVS (13w6d)

So, I had the CVS procedure yesterday. The best thing I can say about it is that it goes pretty quickly once they get started. Meaning, once I signed the consent forms and had an ultrasound to make sure the placenta was in the right place and had the doctor go over everything with me to make sure it was what I wanted and then prep me for the procedure. I was glad Jay was there but kind of wished he'd been home for the earlier, more fun appointments.

The actual procedure consisted of swabbing my stomach with disinfectant, giving me a few (three, I think?) shots of Lidocaine to numb the area and then pushing a long needle through my stomach and into my uterus and collecting a sample of the chorionic villi in the placenta. The shots of Lidocaine were nothing-- didn't hurt or sting the way the doctor said it would. The needle was something else-- it was this jarring sensation of having someone forcefully punch a needle into me. I wasn't prepared for that, but in retrospect I guess I should have expected there to be some force behind it since it had to go through a lot of layers of muscle.

Once the needle was in, it felt like he was digging around inside me. I tried to watch the monitor, but I opted to look at the ceiling and at Jay and try to breathe. It was over in two minutes, if not less, but it was a long two minutes. The doctor showed me what they had collected (kind of neat, actually) before going on his merry way. He was nice enough and had a droll sense of humor, but it was the ultrasound tech who really took the time with us. Oh, and there was a medical student observing the procedure for the first time, whom I could have cared less about once that needle was inside me.

After the procedure, the ultrasound tech cleaned me up, slapped a Bandaid on my puncture wound and was nice enough to do another ultrasound so Jay could get a better look at the baby. (The first time around, we only saw the head and an arm.) Baby was sleeping this time around, so not bouncy and moving like the last time. But the heart rate was whooshing along at 173 and we got a nice view of everything. Always reassuring.

Now we wait for results. I should get preliminary results about the 13, 18 and 21 chromosomes in 3-4 days. (Trisomy 13 and 18 are rare, but catastrophic; Trisomy 21 is Down Syndrome.) The final report with a complete view of the chromosomes will come in about 10 days. We can also find out the gender in just a few days-- something I didn't think I wanted to know when it was based on a 20-week ultrasound (and therefore not necessarily 100% accurate), but now I think maybe it would be nice. I keep having these "boy" feelings-- so it's tempting to find out if I'm right or if I should stop saying "he." Ultimately, all I care about is having a healthy baby and this procedure will help give us a clear picture of at least the genetic health.

Recovery hasn't been too bad. I was told the pain would get worse once the anesthetic wore off and would feel like menstrual cramps. Obviously they have no idea what my periods are like. Cramps with fibroids are a living hell, so this really hasn't been so bad. I left the Bandaid on to remind me to be careful, but I still manage to bump that spot and it hurts. I have to take it easy for a day or so and be careful to watch for signs of infection. There is a risk of miscarriage over the next several days and I worry about that since this was an elective procedure. But everything went well and I feel pretty good today, so I'm just trying to think positive and look forward to hearing some good test results soon.

In the meantime, Jay finally got to see the baby for himself and we have a couple more pictures to add to the collection:

There Really is a Baby in There (12w0d)

I am too emotionally and physically exhausted to write a detailed blog post of my maternal fetal medicine appointment today, so I'll save it for tomorrow. I wasn't able to get all the testing I wanted, so I'll need to wait for some blood work and schedule another appointment. Basically, I don't know much more now than I did before the appointment. Frustrating, to say the least.

I did get another ultrasound (the NT scan) and got to marvel at how much the baby has developed in just a couple of weeks. He or she was wriggling around in there like crazy (and being rebellious about moving into the right position for the test). It was great to see-- and to hear the heart beating at 146 beats per minute. As I said when I first saw it-- I guess I really am pregnant. One of these days, the reality might sink in.

I'll post all of the pictures later, but this one is my favorite.

Wriggle, Baby, Wriggle (9w6d)

No matter what fears were running through my mind sitting in the waiting room this morning, they faded away when I got to see this little shape wriggling and waving at me. The picture isn't much to look at, but it's something else to see it moving around on screen. I even got to hear the heartbeat today, whoosh-whoosh-whooshing along at 167 bpm.

I also found out that the fibroids that have caused so much concern since my miscarriage last year aren't necessarily as big a problem as I had been led to believe. Three of them are rather large, but they are outside the uterus and in the uterine wall. The other two are in the uterus, but aren't in a position to inhibit a vaginal delivery. I have spent a year thinking that C-section was a forgone conclusion because of fibroids and now I'm finding out that isn't true. That was almost as good as seeing the baby on the ultrasound.

It was a good appointment. Better than I could have expected. I have two weeks until my Maternal Fetal Medicine appointment. Fingers crossed that everything goes as well then as it did today. If it does, I might actually be able to breathe.

Cautiously Optimistic (6w6d)

Two appointments in two days. Yesterday's appointment was the paperwork, exam and blood work and today was the much awaited ultrasound. Yesterday, I was freaked out and not feeling very optimistic. Today, I'm still freaked out, but there is a sense of cautious optimism.

I started writing a blog post yesterday entitled "Feeling like a fraud" because that's how I felt yesterday when I left the doctor's office. I'm starting with a new (civilian) ob/gyn practice and I love them. The quality of care is so much better than my experience with the naval hospital, but it's also frustrating to think that maybe if I'd been with them last time... I might not be here now.

The problem is, I just don't feel pregnant. Sure, I'm tired. Sure, I've had a few mild symptoms. But I don't think my mind (or my heart) will let me believe it and feel it. Not yet. So I felt like a fraud as staff member after staff member congratulated me yesterday. "Thanks," I would respond, with a half-hearted smile. I felt like I needed to tell them it was too soon to congratulate me. Then I went back today and I was okay with being congratulated. Being pregnant is a bizarre experience.

I saw the heartbeat today, fluttering right along in just the right spot. I'm not sure how to describe the feelings that were careening through me at that moment. Imagine looking at your uterus (you know, if you have one) on a giant flat panel television screen, expecting to see... nothing. A blob, a void. And instead, you see a little bright spot pulsing in the center of a lighter bright spot. Wow. Shock and fear and hope and panic and happiness and back to fear. It was there, it's real. For now, a little voice whispered.

Of course it was real last time, too, even though I didn't get to see it. And, once again, I was quoted that statistic: "95% of pregnancies go to term once cardiac activity is detected." Been there, heard that, and here I am again. So. Cautious. Optimistic. Freaked out. Emotional. That's me. I know some women start falling in love with their child from that very first heartbeat. I can tell you I didn't. I can't. I won't let myself. I saw it and I was happy, but there was no rush of maternal love. Even after seeing it, it's still hard to believe it's real.

Yesterday's appointment was a mixed bag of news. It seems I have another breast lump (I had a biopsy a little over a year ago and it turned out to be a cyst) and my thyroid gland is enlarged. These issues worry me, especially the breast lump. I can no longer think of just my health, I have to think about the pregnancy. I already had other worries related to the pregnancy-- the possibility of miscarriage still looms and there are the fibroids to worry about, but now I have additional things stealing my happiness. It's scary to go from thinking of only myself and being in a rush to do whatever it takes to make myself well to having to slow down and proceed with caution. Of course, the hope is that it's nothing to worry about and I can focus on being pregnant. That's the hope. Until I know for sure, I feel torn in different directions. Freaked out. Quietly, under the surface where no one can see. But there is a little voice inside me that is screaming very loudly that I was absolutely crazy to get pregnant at my age.

Melinda, the nurse I saw yesterday and today, said, "You're very high risk." No matter how many times I hear that, it never sounds any better. But she also said, "Good for you, getting pregnant on your own at your age! And twice!" That balances out the high risk part, I think. My body is still doing it's reproductive job-- and that has to mean something, right?

It's going to be a long, stressful road. As the doctor said today when I commented on all the possible complications, "Pregnancy is a dangerous condition, but at the end you get a prize!" I have the two pictures the ultrasound technician gave me to remind me that I really am pregnant, no matter how I feel. The embryo measured exactly 6 weeks and 6 days-- right on target. That little blob will become a fetus that will become a baby that will become a child. My child. Our child.


Wow. Happy... and freaked out.

Feeling Hopeful (7w1d)

I woke up this morning hoping I wouldn’t have a reason to go to the hospital. I had intended to call on the doctor’s office on Monday, tell them I was having some bleeding and convince them I needed an ultrasound.

Things started out well, just some cramping and very little bleeding. I was hopeful. But as the day progressed, it got worse. By six o’clock, I knew I needed to go to the emergency room. So I went—alone—armed with two books and a notebook, just in case I was waiting all night. Thankfully, it wasn’t that bad.

Urine sample, triage, brief exam, ultrasound. I was waiting for the ultrasound. I was waiting for them to tell me there was no heartbeat. I was prepared for the worst news because I’ve been through these exact same symptoms before. The resident finished listening to my heart and lungs and stepped out to get his attending and a nurse. They set up the portable ultrasound (attached to a laptop) and I laid there, waiting for the inevitable news. It didn’t come.

They saw the heartbeat.

I didn’t get to see it because of the equipment (ER versus obstetrics), so I was staring at the table as the three of them stared at the laptop monitor. After a moment, I looked up and there were three people looking at the image on the screen, smiling and nodding and saying, "There it is."

Relief.

The heart rate was in the 140s, which I gather is a little low, but not a big concern. The embryo is measuring 6 weeks 4 days and I am 7 weeks 1 day, but again, they said it wasn't a big concern. So, all good news there. I'm still bleeding a little and the doctor suggested it might be the placenta imbedding, so we'll see. They're calling it a “threatened miscarriage,” which seems… well… threatening, but I was assured that seeing the heartbeat gives me a 95% chance of carrying to term. Ninety-five percent sounds pretty good to me.

The resident (a really sweet guy, which has not been my general experience with military health care) was shocked that I wasn’t being seen sooner than ten weeks, given my age and history of miscarriage. He went out the nurse's station, pulled up the appointments and got me one for this Thursday. More good news. I'll be going to the naval hospital rather than my doctor's office, but right now I'm okay with that. And if I have a good experience with them on Thursday, I may be content to stay put rather than seek out a civilian doctor.

Now I'm just hoping the bleeding stops so I can relax. I’m probably fooling myself—“relax” is not likely to be a word in my vocabulary in the next eight months—but I’ll take it one day at a time. After all, they saw a heartbeat.

Maybe I’ll get to see it on Thursday.

Cry Me a River (6w6d)

I think the pregnancy hormones are kicking in. I feel weepy today, ready to break down if someone looks at me funny.

I have all these irrational fears that I’m not really pregnant, probably because everyone thinks it’s strange that I don’t have morning sickness. My other pregnancy “symptoms” are so mild I wouldn’t think I was pregnant if not for the fact that I haven’t had my period in seven weeks. I took another pregnancy test this morning—like I said, I’m irrational—because I had one left and because I just needed some sort of tangible reassurance. Of course it was positive—I really am pregnant, after all—but it wasn’t the reassurance I needed.

Between the strange off-and-on cramping I’ve had and a couple of days of light brown spotting, I think I’m going to call the doctor’s office Monday and see what it’ll take to convince them to do an ultrasound. I know they’re going to tell me to go to the ER at the hospital and I hate that—I hate hospitals to begin with, but this isn’t an emergency, it’s just me wanting a little comfort. That’s all.

I need to see that heartbeat. I need to know it’s real. And the thought of having to wait at least three weeks (and probably longer, since I doubt they’ll do an ultrasound at my first prenatal visit) is enough to make me cry.