No go

We didn’t do the CVS.

It never even occurred to me that there would be a situation in which we would decide NOT to undergo the procedure; but as I should know by now, there are no guarantees in this game.

So I got to the maternal fetal medicine clinic on Monday morning with a VERY full bladder (as per instructions) and was in a foul mood because 1) Jason and I had had a fight the evening before, 2) I was very uncomfortable because of my bladder, 3) the doctor was late, and 4) I was fucking nervous.

So by the time we got into a room to measure baby etc etc, I was fit to be tied. Even though I had seen the fetus just a week before, I burst out crying when we saw the baby moving. My sobbing was so sudden and so contradictory to the happy situation we found ourselves in (baby alive, heartbeat there, measuring correctly, blah blah) that Jason was, I could tell, having one of those moments men have when they are completely kerflummoxed by a woman’s emotions. I surprised myself, so I know he was completely baffled. He just grabbed my hand and asked, “What’s wrong baby? Everything’s fine!” All I could say was, “I know.”

It felt like a release to cry and I am sure I was crying for a variety of reasons – relief that everything looked good, PTSD from the last time I had an ultrasound in that office (when we did the NT quad screen and everything looked fine, only to find out a week later that our test came back positive for chromosomal problems and then we subsequently miscarried at 13 weeks), and anxiety about the CVS procedure.

When the doctor finally arrived, I had had some time to collect myself, though he could tell I’d been crying. He was very kind AND he let me pee for 15 seconds – so I fell in love with him.

After looking around for a bit, he got up and, using the ultrasound picture on the monitor in front of me, pointed out the position of all my organs and then proceeded to explain how the position of the organs and the uterus increased my risk of miscarriage from the procedure. As you can see from my brilliant reconstruction of the ultrasound, my intestines were blocking the path from my stomach to the villi – that meant that entry through the stomach was 100% not an option - and the path from the vaginal canal would have required a risky 90 degree turn to access the villi.

He recommended waiting till week 15 when we could do amniocentesis; we agreed.

So, after another emotional roller-coaster ride, guess what I did? I went to the maternity store and spent $233 dollars on pants and some summer dresses and shirts that I MIGHT need if I make it to the summer. The pants I was OK buying (I need those); but I felt foolish and naïve for buying the summer clothes. Yet hope and excitement definitely triumphed. I haven’t even reached the date of my last miscarriage and I’m buying clothes that I can’t wear for another 4-5 months. My only excuse is that they were discounted significantly and my frugality (and, yes, hope) won the day. I will burn them if I miscarry.

I love the maternity pants and don’t know why we don’t wear these fabulous elasticized, stretchy pants ALL the time. They are so comfortable and have made my life about 50% better already. My gas-filled intestines and teeny-tiny uterus can hang as far out as they want – yay for elastic.