I’m sitting upstairs listening to Damon trying to get Alden down for a nap. For an hour now. After I spent at least as long doing the same a little bit earlier. I am guessing that he will finally conk out in the car on the way to meet our friends for dinner.
I believe the pregnancy news has now reached the far corners of our friends and family. It’s a huge relief. I hate pretending not to be pregnant. Our biggest barrier to telling was getting through our first genetic screening. I’m 38. Not ancient. No big deal, I know. But my odds of a genetic disorder are much higher than they were even two years ago. We made an appointment to have a CVS at the University of Tennessee and went on Thursday. We’re fortunate that they have a maternal/fetal specialist on staff who does nothing but genetic screens. First we talked to the genetic counselor. Then we met the sonographer, who took a detailed look. She said everything looked great to her, and went to get the doctor. The doctor then came in and asked if we minded if he re-did the sonogram. He did, and then was a refreshing change in that he was full of opinions. My experience with genetic testing/counseling is that everyone is so studiously neutral that it’s uncomfortable. I want to say, “I’m not so prone to bend to your will that you risk overpowering me by having thoughts of your own.” It’s something I absolutely loved about my OB in New York. She was always willing to tell me her opinion and what she would do. This guy was the same way. So what he told us was that the sonogram results were as encouraging as it’s possible for them to be. Nasal bone present. Nuchal fold teeny tiny. Ductal blood flow all in order. Pairing that good news with the bad news that my placenta was in a difficult place for the test, he told us that he’d be willing to do it if we wanted him to but that he thought we should take a pass. So we did. We agreed that if my blood results come back scary next week he’ll hustle me back in that day for the test. But no one is expecting that to happen.
Oof. Now Alden is wailing.
The best part of the test, though, was when he said, “If I can tell the sex, do you want to know?” (Sarah keeps reminding me that you can’t tell gender until much later in life.) I said, “How on earth could you tell this early?” He explained that every fetus at this stage has a phallus and if you can see it, the angle from the body is an excellent indicator. Most doctors, he said, won’t tell you because it’s only 90% accurate and parents don’t tend to listen to that warning. So, as we agreed not to paint the bedroom yet, he told us that he could very clearly see the phallus and that we should expect to get a girl this September. I didn’t really care one way or the other, but then I got really excited. I admit, I’d love to buy some tights and hair bows.
Want to see?
Damon’s back upstairs now, but we can hear Alden stirring. I give it 50/50 odds he’ll stay down.
jaysaint 