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rivkaJust got back from the radiology clinic, where I had a 12-week ultrasound for purely mental-health-related reasons. Going into it, I had a creeping sense of dread that the baby would be dead, that it would have died at SUUSI or somewhere in the intervening weeks, no explanation, just one of those things that happens sometimes.
But the baby is alive. Heartbeat of 170, which according to folklore means that it's going to be another girl. Measuring a little bit ahead of dates: I'm 12 weeks, 0 days according to the calendar, and the various measurements the sonographer took put the baby anywhere from 12 weeks 4 days to 13 weeks 1 day. If she measured the nuchal fold (it wasn't on the prescription, but I'm guessing she did) she didn't share the number with us. She did say that she didn't see anything wrong anywhere. We were able to confirm that the baby has a brain. (Anencephaly is one of my private nightmares.)
I didn't get to see much, because the best pictures seem to have come from the transvaginal ultrasound, and when she did that part she moved the machine down where I couldn't see it. She did turn it towards me briefly to show me the face and one tiny hand, and the visibly beating heart. Michael saw more than I did, having the advantage of not being trapped on a table with a wand in a sensitive place.
But, you know, I didn't need to see a lot. I just needed to know that the baby is alive. Twelve weeks' gestation, and alive. The baby is alive.
We're thinking of calling it the Li'l Niblet. Niblet, short for N-B-H-H-Y.
But the baby is alive. Heartbeat of 170, which according to folklore means that it's going to be another girl. Measuring a little bit ahead of dates: I'm 12 weeks, 0 days according to the calendar, and the various measurements the sonographer took put the baby anywhere from 12 weeks 4 days to 13 weeks 1 day. If she measured the nuchal fold (it wasn't on the prescription, but I'm guessing she did) she didn't share the number with us. She did say that she didn't see anything wrong anywhere. We were able to confirm that the baby has a brain. (Anencephaly is one of my private nightmares.)
I didn't get to see much, because the best pictures seem to have come from the transvaginal ultrasound, and when she did that part she moved the machine down where I couldn't see it. She did turn it towards me briefly to show me the face and one tiny hand, and the visibly beating heart. Michael saw more than I did, having the advantage of not being trapped on a table with a wand in a sensitive place.
But, you know, I didn't need to see a lot. I just needed to know that the baby is alive. Twelve weeks' gestation, and alive. The baby is alive.
We're thinking of calling it the Li'l Niblet. Niblet, short for N-B-H-H-Y.
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Date: 2008-07-30 03:00 am (UTC)When I had my 12 week checkup, they decided to do the doppler heartbeat finder and -- wait for it -- THEY COULDN'T FIND THE DAMN HEARTBEAT. I was frantic, which from the outside looks catatonic. It was a friday, and the PA who was assigned to me was like, "Oh well, we'll try again next time!"
So all weekend I rabidly googled and dug through Real Books On Paper for anything I could find, from worst case to best case, and my favorite part was about how 11 weeks is about the earliest, and many women aren't successful until around week 13-14 due to baby position, activity, or -- my fav -- bodyfat. I am not a sleek and lithe chicky, I am a mountain of mom, and before I started K, i've always had Childbearing Hips.
So Monday morning the office called me back in when an opening popped up and apparently the doc tutored the PA, and eventually, yes, there it was, the syncopated percussion that was K's heartbeat. I finally breathed after 3 full days.
(turns out I completely forgot about a civil service job exam I was supposed to be taking exactly during that appointment. Hrm.)
The one time I had a transvag US was to check for possible ovarian cysts or cysts or fibroids on the ol' uterus. It pretty much looks like ET's finger.