I.V.Effed: No Sex, No Lies, and No Videotape

Today was the first OB ultrasound and appointment.  They were very accomodating when I explained that I really didn’t want to wait until the 10 week mark when I had called initially (throw out the phrases “missed miscarriage of twins” “almost three weeks not knowing”, and an OBs office must feel obliged to accomodate.)  Anyway.  I went in to the room by myself today (P and T stayed out in the waiting room at the request of the tech, but also, I think, it was what T was planning on doing anyway.  He was nervous as heck too, and probably didn’t want to be back in that room, reliving those memories…and P provides a nice distraction).

I started to say a Hail Mary as I waited for the tech to find what she wanted to see before she turned on the overhead ginormous screen…and I don’t believe I got in more than two or three lines til she hit the remote, and there was the bean.  She did not want any questions, so I just watched and stared until I was certain I saw the quick flitting of the heartbeat.  She measured some things, checked out other parts in there, and then called T and P in to show them via an outside scan the growing bean up on the screen.  Relief.  Relief relief relief.

After a brief hour wait, I met with the doctor (not my actual OB–he was booked) and she was wonderful.  She understood my fears, listened to me, and said to make an appointment to come back in 2 weeks.  Thanks Be to G, no making me wait the ridiculous length of time of 3 or 4 weeks to see my bean again.  I do feel so much more relaxed right now…though of course, that feeling in of itself is making me feel un-relaxed…

The stats:  All parts of bean are accounted for.  Measures 8w3d, and has a heartbeat of 175.  Can’t ask for more than Everything Looking Right (ok, I can ask for everything remaining right….continuing right…)  The doctor again reminded me that the percentage of miscarriages in the first tri is 15%…and that the odds of miscarriage drop to 5% after seeing a strong heartbeat.  (I asked my math whiz husband what that translates into…he said 1 in 20.  Shit, that seems really freaking high, I said.  Then he said, I’m thinking of a number between 1 and 20.  What is it?  I replied, 7.  He said, Nope.  14.  I then asked if 7 being a multiple of 14 meant anything.  He gave me the stink eye.)

So I head back two weeks from today.  Am I still nervous?  You bet.  Am I afraid of being too confident and comfortable?  Check.  Although, here are some interesting tidbits…my due date is the same day as a huge football game here at Yankee Stadium this fall–my Alma Mater v. Army.  Hmm.  Prob won’t be tailgating at that one (IhopeIhopeIhopeIhope).  Also, best pal from college…due the week before me with her second (don’t worry, M–no one else who knows you reads this!).  How fun to raise a baby born so close to each other…

So please.  Please God, let this be the one for us.  Let this be our child, not just our hope or our dream.  It is amazing that after all of the limbos we IFers find ourself in–before the cycle, while cycling, retrieval, grow-time, transfer, 2WW, beta one, beta two, beta three, ultrasound one, ultrasound 2, ultrasound 3–we never really seem to leave limbo behind.

In: April | | #