I am constantly hungry, but have a difficult time finding foods that don't turn my stomach into a churning mess. I am craving salads and healthy foods, but apparently my system is not. I spend a lot of time in the bathroom and chewing Tum's.
My GYN mentioned something about genetic testing since I am of AMA (Advanced Maternal Age). I know that Down syndrome is a concern at this point, but I try to push that thought very, very far out of my head. We don't have any health problems in our family to speak of, and certainly no Down syndrome. And further, after all we've been through with infertility and adoption issues, we wouldn't have been given this gift of a baby to have it turn out to be "flawed". No, we wouldn't have a baby with Down syndrome. Of that I was sure.
But in the back of my mind I think I always knew. We wouldn't be so lucky to beat the odds and get pregnant and have a perfectly healthy child. There would surely be a trade-off.
The morning of our first prenatal visit finally arrived. We walked into the huge OB/GYN group office. I missed the cozy personal feeling of my GYN's waiting room. Huge portraits of her children hang on the walls in heavy gold frames. She has 3 children - a biological son and 2 beautiful daughters adopted from China. I have enjoyed looking at their pictures through the years and I find I miss their smiling faces, assuring me that my doctor is first and foremost a mother. It makes her "real", not just a doctor, but also a parent.
I don't know this new doctor, this OB. Will she be be caring? Will I like her and feel comfortable with her?
I am walked through the process of my monthly checkups - pee in a cup, step on a scale, have blood pressure drawn, go back to waiting room to be called by my doctor's nurse. I feel lost inside the large office, but everyone seems nice and personable. The waiting room is busy but not full. I'm anxious and nauseated from the car ride over.
I am finally called back to the exam room where I wait for my doctor. She walks into the room, this small beautiful brunette with a smile that lights up the the entire place. I immediately like her. She is warm and caring, traits I immediately sense.
I barely remember the questions she asks me. I'm anxious to see the baby and make sure he or she (since we don't know which at this point) is okay. I still have the horrible fear that the baby will have died. I lie back on the table and she brings in a portable ultrasound machine. I hold my breath and close my eyes as she inserts the probe (I'm still to early along to have an abdominal ultrasound). And suddenly, there on the screen is our baby. I see movement, I see the heart beating. Hallelujah! I let out a sigh of relief and Russell and I look at each other and I can see he's just as relieved as I am.
She moves the probe around and we can see that our baby no longer looks like a blog, but surprisingly like... a baby! There are arms and legs and tiny little feet and hands. The heartbeat is strong. Looking at the baby I find it hard to believe this little being is inside me and not simply an image in black and white on a monitor. We laugh about how the baby looks like a teddy bear in one position.
I get dressed and my doctor asks about genetic testing. We have already decided that we don't want to do anything invasive. She schedules me for a First Trimester Screen in a couple of weeks, after we get back from vacation. They will to a nuchal fold test, which is basically a test to measure the back of the baby's neck. A thicker nuchal fold will often indicate Down syndrome.
Russell and I leave the office hand in hand with the picture of our little baby safely tucked into his shirt pocket. All is right in the world.
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