12 weeks - Fetal Matter

Today I went in for a "combination screen" test. They did some monster finger jab (YEOWTCH! WTF was that? A stapler?) and shmeared blood onto a paper. Then an ultrasound where he measured the tissue at the back of the neck to check for stuff like Downs Syndrome. But not just any ultrasound. Oh, no. I went to the same doctor I saw last time around, who works in a high-risk OB clinic. You need a referral just to get in! But they have 3D imaging, and give you a DVD movie of the session, plus a CD of images. And he treats you like a princess! Seriously. Warm belly goo, extra pillows. Heated lap blankets. I shit you not. And he's so thrilled and makes you feel like a million bucks for having a "healthy" baby (since he sees so many sad cases, working at the high risk place.)
Oh man. Last time, I had a 7w (looks like a snot clump) and 9ish w (looks like a gummy bear) ultrasound, and then nothing until 20 weeks, where baby actually looks humanoid. What a treat, to see my tiny, plum-sized little human! That little curled-up profile just took my breath away. And s/he was moving! Arms and legs everywhere. Twisting and turning. Just a magical sight!
Neck tissue was 1.5ish, and he says they're looking for anything under 3, so that was good. Crown-to-rump length (CRL?) shows a due date of 3 days earlier, so that just means baby is growing a little bigger than average for this gestational age, which is another notch in the "non-Downs" category (Downs babies tend to be smaller.) Something about good blood flow in the cord, and good heartbeat (170-something BPM.)

He also found a "twin fragment" which made me sad. He was surprised they hadn't mentioned it at the 7w U/S. I don't remember seeing anything else though, and my husband and I both had our eyes peeled for that extra baby. He showed me the tiny little placenta that had started forming, and the little fetal tissue clump. It's funny. I never really got all misty-eyed over the 2 embryos that didn't take the first time, and only had a little wistful regret at finding only one embryo this time. But seeing my little dead baby that tried to make it, was just a little punch in the psyche. I mean, I obviously wouldn't really want a child who was so genetically challenged that the fetus couldn't survive. But still. I've never had a miscarriage before, and now I kind of have an inkling of what that feels like. Kind of. Obviously, not really, TRULY what it feels like. What a nightmare. At least there's some happiness in this story! I saw my midwife for my 12w appointment after, and asked her what happens to this extra placenta and fetal matter. Does it get delivered with the live birth? Or will I need a D&C after?
Apparently it usually gets reabsorbed. Ewww. But they'll watch for it after the birth and they apparently sift through and test the placenta and stuff to make sure it's all good (double eww.)

In other neutral-to-bad news, he also thinks there's a velamentous insertion of the umbilical cord. Which can theoretically lead to inhibited growth in the fetus (so hizzer slightly larger size is again a good sign,) and also complications during labor. Like, baby can die. And that's just from reading that one link. I'm scared to look at anything else. Plus my sister told me not to look it up at all. I'm not terribly worried (yet,) since he isn't having my OB run extra tests or monitor for anything special, and he'll know more at the 20-week U/S. So apparently nothing too terrible can happen in the next 8 weeks... or maybe just nothing preventable. :(

We brought Little Z to the U/S, since she likes seeing the baby. Many people are surprised that we've already told her, but she's smart, and this can help teach her a little about patience, and having to wait for things to grow (or cook!) Plus she takes her a while to warm up to change, so this makes her feel like she's more a part of the process, rather than suddenly having a baby sibling foisted on her. (When we got her new sheets, she cried and fussed and demanded we put her old sheets back on for at least half an hour, then again whenever she'd remember, despite whatever distractions we were trying.) When I first told her, she spent every night for a week crying and telling me that she wanted the baby out (and not so she could meet the baby sooner, no. Just get it gone!) Now she'll ask roughly once a week if I have a baby in my tummy. So it took 6 weeks (I told her 1 week after we got the BFP) for her to accept this as a not-bad thing.
She did amazingly well. I knew from past experience that this doctor brooks no kiddie interruptions, so I reminded her all day that she wasn't allowed to talk, even with her quiet voice, or else Daddy or Nana would have to take her out of the room. I told her to save all her questions until the end. She did such a great job: when the nurse showed us all into the room (my mom, his mom and sister, my husband and Z all came too,) she started shushing ME when I tried to remind her of the rules! She shushed Nana and Grammelena when they'd quietly ooh and aah too. It was hilarious! And she didn't do anything to warrant getting removed. And after the doctor left, she asked me her saved-up question: "What was that yucky goo he put on your tummy?"

I Love You One Cheerio

1 November, 2007
I go again for my second ultrasound. And my final visit to this clinic. From here on out, I need to find an OB or midwife. Squee!
This time my husband was present. So this was his first live view of our little miracle of science. And this time it looked vaguely humanoid. Like a little Kewpie Doll Gummy Bear. Big Kewpie Doll head, with Gummy Bear arm and  leg nubs.

And then... it moved. Waved one little arm bud at us. We were goners. That one little involuntary arm bud movement, and I felt all my love for everyone else in the whole world drain away, all moving over into a big pile of love for the baby. I told my husband on the way home that it was like all my love was a box of Cheerios. There was a Cheerio for him. All the rest was for the baby. This feeling didn't go away for a while. But eventually I restocked on Cheerios, and had some left for other people too.
But it's fun to say to him "I love you one Cheerio" on special occasions.

To make a long story short, and one I will probably eventually get around to typing out at length on another blog, we had a baby girl 32 weeks later (full term. I'm subtracting the time before the final U/S at the infertility clinic.) And because we got the money for the IVF treatment from my Grandma, I like to joke that I got knocked up by my Grandma!

If you want to read more about her and us now, my main blog, Biting The Hand That Feeds You, is about activities and crafts, but mostly food and fun meal ideas (and my ineptitude in the kitchen.) I (much) less frequently post on War And Peas about toddlerhood and Motherhood issues. I chose different venues both for the fun titles, but also because our families are subscribed to my main blog, and I don't need his Grandma reading about his sperm count, or his mom reading about what days we're scheduled to have sex, or my dad reading that we even have sex. Hahaha! And no one we know needs to read about how much I hate him some days. Irrationally. Probably hormonally-driven. But still. I don't need anyone testifying at my trial that smothering him with my pillow for snoring all night wasn't temporary insanity!