Ah, the magical week. The week where I become "safe." Aha!
I have my nuchal translucency scan at 12 weeks and 6 days. I work myself into a lather of worry beforehand. I've said before, that if something bad is going to happen, I always feel like it will happen to me. I hate the numbers game. Odds and risk factors usually calm people, if they are low. Not me. I always seem to be that 1 in 100, 1 in 1000. I am one of 2% of the female population that has a retroverted uterus. Jack was one of the 2% of babies that are born breech. Sybella was in the 1% of babies that had pyelectasis. She was also in the 1% of babies that are stillborn. Since the nuchal translucency (NT) scan is basically a risk factor given to you for your personal risk or odds of having a baby with Down Syndrome, the results tend not to mean much to me anyway.
In the days leading up to my scan, I find myself acting in preparedness for a bad result. I clean the house and change the linen. I do a big grocery shop. I realise that I am ensuring I have my creature comforts available, and am making sure my house is a haven of comfort, in the event that the scan brings bad news and I need to take to my bed. Like I did with Sybella. I didnt leave the house for weeks after her death. So in case I am told that this baby is dead too, I need to make sure the house is ready for me not to leave it.
On the morning of the scan I am physically sick with nerves. I spend an hour in the bathroom. Although I have been having low resolution scans with The Boss for the last few weeks, this is the first "official" scan of this pregnancy. My last "official" scan with Sybella ended with them telling me she had no heartbeat. So it is a massive milestone.
On my way to the hospital, I also realise the date. It is August 24. Exactly 4 months since Sybella was born. And here I was, about to have my 3 month scan for a new baby. That sent me into a total slump of guilt and fear.
I sat in the waiting room, jiggling my foot. When I was finally called into the room, I froze.
In the room, I stood at the end of the bed and started to cry. I couldnt make my body lie down. The sonographer looked from me to the door and back again. She wasnt sure what was going on. "I'm sorry" I sobbed. "The last time I was here I was told my baby was dead." She looks at my notes and nods. "Okay" she says. "Take your time."
I cry a bit longer but eventually manage to get onto the bed. She asks me if I want the screen turned off so I dont have to watch. I decline. She quickly, like a bandaid being ripped off, puts the wand on my abdomen and before I can think about it, she says "baby looks fine."
First hurdle crossed. The kid is alive.
She methodically and carefully takes measurements and shows me as she does. I see the heartbeat and it is at a good rate. I see features of the little face, and I see all the arms and legs and fingers and toes. The sonographer has trouble getting measurements because the baby doesnt stop moving around. It was very different to Sybella's morphology scan, where the sonographer couldnt get measurements because Sybella wouldnt move at all. She stayed curled up, which made for difficult visualisation. Eventually the kid calms down and the measurements are finished. She says everything looks great and is happy with what she saw.  |
| We gots oursleves a mooner! |
I have a talk to the doctor on duty, who goes over the results with me. One of the measurements that is taken is the width of the nuchal fold...the amount of fluid behind the neck. The more fluid that is measured, the higher chance the baby has of having Down Syndrome or another chromosomal abnormality. Combined with blood tests of certain proteins in the maternal blood (I had the blood tests during week 10) and maternal age (I am 29), you get an overall risk factor based on a ratio of the chance of the baby having Down Syndrome. My risk factor for Jack was 1 in 12,000. For Sybella, it was 1 in 10,000. For this baby, it was 1 in 7,000. Obviously, the risk is higher the older you get, because the main reason for Down Syndrome occurring is maternal age. As you age, the quality of your eggs decrease, resulting in a higher risk for chromosomal abnormalities. As it were, my risk is extremely low. The cut-off for a high risk pregnancy is 1 in 300...so obviously, I am way beyond that.
All in all, a succesful scan. I skip to the car, feeling light for the first time in weeks. I ring Kelvin to tell him all is well. He is ecstatic. We spend the evening making our announcment to family and friends. I make a facebook post, Kelvin text messages almost everyone he knows. We go to sleep happy.
When I wake up in the morning...again...I am met with the sight of bright red blood.
No comments:
Post a Comment