Chasing A Child: 11w4d

11w4d

Went to the OB today. Doc couldn't find a heartbeat with the doppler, so she went to fetch the ultrasound machine. This is, of course, exactly how things went down when we learned that we'd lost Sammy. So, naturally, the Mister was sweating bullets in the corner, worried sick that we were back in that same dark place again. I managed to stay positive, as I lay there looking at the flowers on her ceiling. I'd been consulting Dr. Google this morning on just this issue, and was fairly certain that it might be too early, or that my tilted uterus might make it difficult to hear the heartbeat at a normal time. Plus, with the nausea I've been feeling all day, it couldn't possibly be bad news. Yesterday, when I felt fine, I would have been stressed. Today, in the Doc's office, I really thought I might puke, which somehow kept me calm.

She found the fetus right away with the ultrasound. From the little I could see, it was lying on the bottom of my uterus, taking a nap. Keep in mind that this is the machine that the Mister describes as being "worse than the black & white TV I had in my bedroom in 1972." The picture is for crap. Doc swore she could see the heartbeat, and the Mister said he saw it too, but I couldn't see a damn thing because Doc was standing between me and the machine and her arm that was pressing the wand into my belly was blocking my %&*!@# view. She was so engrossed in pointing out the images that she didn't notice I was stretching and straining my neck like an ostrich. I was so cranky that I couldn't even ask her to move, and my silence made me even crankier.

I was getting all ready to spend the rest of the day being heartily disgruntled at having a relieved-but-still-much-less-than-stellar ultrasound experience when <gasp!> a teensy little arm waved at us.

Screw decorum! I quickly sat up on my elbows, which jolted Doc's arm away but gave me a much better view of the screen. Once she got the wand situated again, I realized that I must also have jolted the stowaway awake. Suddenly we were looking at somersaults, waving arms and legs, swimming, dancing, the whole works. I think we were all crying a little bit but mostly we were laughing and watching the show.

"Okay," said Doc, "I think I can safely say that things are looking great."

"That," said the Mister, "was worth the price of admission."

5 years of our lives plus $XX,000, countless shots, testing, poking, prodding, blood draws, endless heartbreak and disappointment and fury ... But yes -- that moment right there? Priceless.

Posted at 08:55 PM in donor embryos, our medical friends | Permalink