There is so much to write about.
Most of it is good, but with me, that one bad thing will so quickly overshadow the good that I forget the good is even there. And this "bad thing" is most likely nothing. And it makes me feel like a crazy person. But I'll get to that later.
We had our 28 week ultrasound on Thursday (actually 27 weeks, 2 days), which was the follow-up to our 20 week anatomy scan. This was to follow-up on his ureter issue, since at 20 weeks they were measuring slightly large, meaning there could have been extra fluid in them, leading into the kidneys. I was reassured enough times during the 8 week wait to not really be too concerned about this, as I was told it was very common with baby boys, and more importantly that they have NEVER seen it turn in to an actual issue with any patients within my OB's office.
So we had the scan on Thursday, and then unfortunately we couldn't see a doctor to go over the results until the next day, Friday. That's no good for an anxious person like me, and I tried to tell the tech that any information she could give us would be helpful. Well, she must have been having a bad day Thursday (why must I always catch medical professionals on their bad days? It's making me think maybe it's really me that's the problem?), because she was MUCH less caring and reassuring than she's been in the past. In fact, she told Phil that video was not permitted when he turned on the camera, when 8 weeks ago she was all about it. Weird. Then she proceeded to measure things, without really telling us what she was seeing. This is so hard for me, because I automatically associate silence with bad news. At every "bad news" ultrasound I've ever had, the tech was always silent, finally leaving to send in a doctor to tell me the bad news. So I'm pretty sure my PTSD switch flips on in these situations and I just start to prepare myself for the worst.
Well, from what I could TELL, baby boy looked good. She did finally tell us he was measuring big... in the 65th percentile, but that that's fine. They only worry if they are below the 10th or above the 90th. And honestly, I'd rather him be big than small! He is estimated to weigh 2 pounds, 10 ounces, which is again a few weeks ahead of schedule. I weighed nearly 10 lbs. at birth, so my mom and I (she was there for this too), kind of laugh at the thought that he could be a real chunker just like his mom was.
At the end, I asked her if she could tell me ANYTHING at all, and she did say "I wouldn't worry if I were you." I really appreciated that, and it allowed me to wait the 24 hours to see the doctor without worrying too much. I know they can't really tell us too much, as it's up to the doctor to do that.
The ultrasound took forever because baby boy was being stubborn. He had his back facing out, so his face was facing internally, and it was hard to get a good profile shot. He also kept his little fist up in front of his face just like he did at 20 weeks. I guess he just really did NOT want his picture taken, so we left with some images, but none of them are that great. Of course I still pour over them endlessly, taking in every little detail... because I love every chance I get to see this little boy we worked so hard to get.
My follow-up appointment yesterday (Friday) went well. This was with a new OB, a woman, and I LOVED her. She is older and kinder and just so sweet. She was very reassuring and said the ureter issue is no longer an issue at all. He is fine. He looks good. He looks healthy. (I am trying to hold on to these statements today, when my panic instinct is flaring). She found his heartbeat with the doppler in about 1 second, and then answered a few of my questions. And that was it. I left feeling good for once, probably because I had just met with a doctor who treated me like a human being. What a difference that can make! And when I go back in 2 weeks, I will see another female... actually a nurse-midwife, and I have heard such great things about her too. So I feel good about this break (maybe I can make it indefinite?) from my regular OB, and I think we both really needed it.
So here's the catch. Here's where I become a crazy person who freaks myself out, hopefully needlessly. Are you ready?
I read a forum on Baby Center that is for women due in December with Rainbow Babies. Even this is hard for me, b/c many of these women are morons who post about things like fights with their husbands and crying over spilled yogurt. I could care less. But then again, these are also women who have lost what I've lost, and are now trying to wade through the scary waters of pregnancy after miscarriage. And it's hard. And many of them really seem to get that. I would never, not in a million years, ever step "foot" in a regular pregnancy forum, b/c I know my reaction would be one of disgust and jealously over how petty and naive pregnant women can be who have never known heartache on their road to becoming a mother. I just can't go there.
Anyway, the problem arose last night, in bed, when I was reading some posts on the December Rainbow Baby forum on my Kindle Fire (aren't those supposed to be used for reading BOOKS? Oh well). I happened upon one little comment, and immediately my panic button was pushed and I was a goner. This woman was posting about how her recent ultrasound had gone well for various reasons, one of which was that the doctor noted her baby opening and closing her little hands. In other words, her baby's hands were not clenched. Red flag!!
At both of my ultrasounds, baby boy has firmly and stubbornly kept his hands tightly clenched and up by his face. I thought nothing of this, other than that he was probably not enjoying the sound waves from the ultrasounds and was making fists as a reflex. I had never heard that fist clenching was a marker for anything being wrong, but last night I learned that it is indeed just that. One of the major markers for many of the trisomy chromosomal disorders is a baby that won't unclench their hands. Shit. Shit!! I immediately started to panic... and search Dr. Google, which as we all know is usually a great plan. Cue the rapid heartrate and tears of panic. I have never seen my baby wave to me on the ultrasound, as so many mention. I have never even seen him MOVE his little fists away from his face. Is this bad? Is there something wrong with him? Why doesn't he open his hands like he's supposed to? Is it just a reflex to him not liking ultrasounds, or is it something more major than that? It could be trisomy, or it could be another neurological disorder.
It sounds so stupid and irrational. So he has had his hands in fists for 2 ultrasounds? So what? But once you read enough times that many doctors take this seriously and will usually do a follow-up to make sure they CAN and DO open their hands, it's easy to start to panic. But why didn't MY doctor, either time, even mention this to me? Are they not looking at my charts/sono pics very carefully? I've met with different doctors, neither of them my real OB, after both ultrasounds, and I'm sure neither spent too long looking at the images of my sweet baby boy. And I am worried. And of course it's a Saturday, and I can't call the office.
Can anyone tell me if you have any experience with this? Have you had ultrasounds where your baby's hands were clenched in fists, and the doctor never mentioned it? Should I be worried, or am I just creating things to worry about?
I see the nurse-midwife on September 20th, and I suppose I can try to wait and talk to her about it then. I'd like to ask for another ultrasound at some point, just to make sure he CAN in fact open his hands up. But then what if he doesn't? I might worry even more.
I really hate this. This morning I told my husband that this immediately sends me back to my deep-set fear that of course this could never work out for us. Of COURSE we won't end up with a healthy baby, because that just doesn't happen to us. I have shitty-quality eggs and he has less than perfect sperm, so how could we expect a perfectly healthy baby? And then I start to get angry again. So angry. If we end up with a baby who has issues, of course I will love it no matter what, but seriously? Isn't it time for something to go RIGHT for us? Can't we just have this one little miracle? Basically, and I know this all sounds crazy, my anger issues towards God immediately bubble to the surface. Where is he in all of this? I still don't know. Where is the peace I pray so much more? Maybe I don't deserve it anymore. Ugh.
It is truly amazing to me how quickly I fall back into this pessimistic pattern. All over little clenched fists, which could admittedly be perfectly normal! I miss Lexapro. I miss my innocence. I want to be naive and just believe that my baby will make it and be just fine. I want to be normal.
12 more weeks? How can I get through that? I just want to meet this baby. I just want him to be ok. Please God, please let him be healthy both physically and mentally. Please.
And I apologize for the melodrama, but this is where I am this Saturday morning. I can't call the nurse line b/c it's the weekend, and I have nowhere else to turn. I will try to pray away my anxieties. I will work on staying busy. I will enjoy the little kicks from baby boy, and work on imagining him opening and closing his hands in there. Ultrasounds are only brief moments in time, right? They don't show the whole picture.
Of course I planned all week to write about school and the craziness of going back. I also planned to write about the survival's guilt I feel every time I'm in the waiting room at my OB's office, but both of those topics will have to wait for another time. Happy weekend, friends!