So last week we had the 20 week scan...at 19 weeks.
You know it's going to be one of those days when your husband is playing video games & eating left over chicken before your appointment.
Please ignore the mess I'm sure you notice. We live here. I've not been able to find a way to actually live in this house & keep it clean at the same time. Maybe one day.
On the way there, Adam said, "so if everything is alright today, what do you want to do?"
WHAT?! IF?! Did he really say that?
Worse yet, at that moment "Knocking of Heavens Door" came on the radio.
We get to the doctors office & we get called back for the ultrasound. I'm just happy that I was "Jessica" this time rather than Mrs. Culver, which as I've said before is my mother in law, not me. When we get inside the ultrasound room, I mention that we want a DVD of the ultrasound. I'd made a point to call earlier in the day & ask, they told me I could buy one if I didn't bring my own. I called so if they didn't have them, we could stop & get one somewhere before the ultrasound.
"We're all out."
When I called, I asked to speak to someone in ultrasound but they didn't want to direct me there, I "needed to go through my doctors desk." Alright, fine. I ask the lady who works my doctors desk & she tells me they have DVD's you can buy if you don't bring your own in. Of course, looking back I realize she's a fucking idiot because she also said, "I think they give you pictures, too." Um, no shit they do.
So, once again at 20 weeks, we get no ultrasound on DVD. Lovely.
The scan starts & she doesn't check the heartbeat, which I find annoying. I don't see anything moving, so I really kinda wanna blurt out, "is he dead?"
...yeah, it was one of those days.
She even spent a decent time doing blood flow & such, which really had me paranoid.
But finally, he waved & said, "hey bitches, what's up?"
Isn't it nice that my fetus curses?
Then he just kept staring.
He also showed that he can riverdance with his big strong legs.
I seriously think those are the most built fetal legs I've ever seen.
And like all of my other children, he has huge feet.
My 2 year old? He wears at least an 8 1/2. Yeah, huge feet.
Hey, speaking of huge feet, the tech froze a picture & said, "did you want to know the gender?"
Um, if I didn't, you would have spoiled it since our non-trained eyes knew that was a penis & testicles. And not just because we already knew that anyway, but because isn't it obvious?
I'd been somewhat paranoid his penis has turned into a vagina somehow, so it was nice to know it hadn't.
We go through all the rest of the stuff. We see TWO kidneys (something else we could clearly see), heart, stomach, bladder, & all that jazz you want your fetus to have.
I wipe myself clean from all of the goo they use for the ultrasound then make our way over to wait at my doctors section of the waiting room.
As we wait, I get paranoid. I realize they didn't let me carry my own chart over like other people have. I become convinced there is something wrong. I start to think about the ultrasound & how she kept looking at the spine. At that point, I told my husband that our baby must have a spinal problem. He told me I was wrong, I told him that if he can't panic with me, he needs to just stay quiet. This is nothing new, I think I've been convinced this baby has had every serious or fatal condition I know of. Plus, I have a gene mutation called MTHFR. It's not serious, it's a common mutation actually, but it puts you at a slightly higher risk of things called neural tube defects. I take a handful of pills every night, most of which are folic acid, to help avoid that but it's still a chance. So that weighs on my mine alot.
We finally get called back & left in an exam room. I'm not a good patient. I don't set on the table unless I have to & only when I have to. And I, well, I snoop.
Seriously, I look in everything I can. It's awful. I'm a bad, nosey person. Damn me. Maybe that's why they don't give me my chart.
I found keys. I sadly couldn't figure out what they were to. Maybe next time.
My doctors office has all of these inspirational quotes on the walls. Along with their odd nature music & their lame National Geographic DVD they always have playing in the lobby.
They also have gel to use with the doppler to find the babys heart beat. In case you don't know, the fancy gel is nothing more than a water based lube. Don't believe me?
It enhances the pleasure of loving intimacy. Out of everything my doctor & I do, there really isn't anything loving. No amount of lube can create a loving feeling. But maybe I'm weird like that.
Doctor comes in, ask what we found out. I told him, "we're having a baby, what do you know?"
Silly man, he laughed because I think he thought I was joking.
He then says, like most ultrasounds, they couldn't get a good shot of everything. He told me a couple things in the heart they weren't able to get clear shots of, but I'm having a fetal echo in March, so they weren't worried about that. Then he says, "And, you know, part of the spine wasn't visible."
HA! I knew I was right! "What's wrong with the spine?!" The doctor gets this slightly concerned look on his face because he knows he's sent me into a panic. He pulls out the report to give me exact details & then says this...
"Oh, wait, I'm wrong. Usually it's part of the spine. Profile. That's what it was, she couldn't get a profile shot."
I saw the report, there is nothing up with his spine. They were missing a profile shot. I guess our baby has a staring problem. He gets that from me. Hopefully he doesn't obviously point at people like the husband does as he talks about them.
...but really, wasn't that a bad idea to just guess what they couldn't get clear shots of for the dead baby parents?
So all is well in my womb. The person growing within is measuring right on his dates & weighs a whopping 9ozs. And, like I said, has a staring problem. I see lots of awkward moments in our future.
Go back in 3 weeks & after that we get to start our serious, short term relationship where we see each other all the time until the doctor finally gets me on my back, naked from the waist down. That may sound dirty, but there is nothing dirty (at least in the good way) about pushing a 7lb thing out of your vagina. Trust me.
In other news, Jules & I now make cookies.
He decorates them.
And, of course, he noms stuff in between decorating.
He also loves paint.
I love standing in a stranger yard, at night, to pose with their decorative cow.
So all is well. OK, not all is well, but the important stuff is. I'm sure I'll bitch & moan about the other things soon enough. Look forward to that one like I know you will. Oh, & I ordered maternity clothes. Because I'm getting bloated. I'm picky & find being pregnant no reason to dress badly, so maternity is always a task for me since I don't like floral prints & bows. I'll have to blog about that in the future. And, you know, offend all of the women who like floral prints & bows.
And here is your Epic Fail tip of the week. Have a Dairy Queen? I highly suggest everyone get a Strawberry Cheesequake blizzard cake. It's good for pregnant women, PMS'ing women, or women who are breathing. Just a tip. Don't ask how I know that, I've not ate an entire ice cream cake for no reason this weekend. Nope, didn't do it at all.
And I wonder why I'm bloated.