We had our anatomy scan this morning. Not necessarily the most important thing first, but my biggest concern: my cervix. It looks great. No funneling, and it’s still nice and long. The doctor mentioned a couple of times that my peri did a beautiful job with the cerclage, which was good to hear.
The baby was moving all over the place, which he’s done at every ultrasound. We didn’t tell the tech that we already knew the gender, just because we wanted to make sure everyone was seeing the same thing. She passed our test, although he made it pretty (very) easy for her.
Everything looks great. His head is measuring a little big, which means his limbs measured a little small. This increases our risk of Downs by four, but I’m not worried about it. I just got off the phone with a nurse from my doctor’s office, and found out that our risk of Downs was less than 1 in 10,000, so I’m still not worried. She even asked if anyone in our house has a big head. I think it’s mine.
What struck me the most, and I have thought this at every ultrasound, is how much he doesn’t look like Jillian. I’m sure that they’ll resemble each other somehow, but on the screen, they look very different. I think that’s good for me. I don’t get caught off guard and think I’m looking at her when I’m looking at him. It’s hard to explain.
After the ultrasound was over, someone knocked on the door. It was my old OB. This was my first time seeing her since last October, when I was about this pregnant with Jillian. She left the practice to go to this ultrasound place. I’ve wondered several times over the past nine months if she knew what happened, but I figured she didn’t because I’m sure I would have heard from her.
She told us that she saw my name on the card outside my room, and when she saw what happened with Jillian, she couldn’t believe it. She said nobody had told her, and she was clearly shaken up. Dave and I both thought she was going to burst into tears. I wanted to hug her and tell her it’s okay, even though it’s not really okay, but I felt guilty that this news had just been dropped on her. I felt like I needed to comfort her because I’ve had nine months to deal with this, and she’d had all of 30 seconds. Obviously it’s different because it’s not her child, but I imagine that hearing that a pregnancy that was mostly under her care had complications resulting in the death of a baby isn’t easy to take.
I worry about her thinking that I blame her, and I don’t. I tried that, just because I wanted something or someone to blame. I asked her twice if I needed to worry about my cervix because of my mother’s problems, and she told me that it wasn’t hereditary. I wanted to blame her so much, but in my heart, I know that she was giving me accurate information – there isn’t really any evidence that it’s hereditary. Plus, at this exact point with Jillian, my cervix was fine. It was at that point that I stopped worrying that anything would go wrong, so as much as I tried, I can’t place any blame on her. I feel like I need to tell her that, but I didn’t this morning because I didn’t think of it until after we left. Who knows, maybe she’s not thinking about that at all. I’m glad she came in to see us.
So, everything is good. I’m getting more worried as I get further along, but this morning’s ultrasound helped me relax a little. Hopefully things will keep going well and I have 20+ weeks of pregnancy left.