I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect yesterday when I went in for the US. I think I had this rosy picture painted that there would be a lot of excitement, a lot of tears of joy, a round of “Congratulations!”
I even dressed up. I dressed up for my US to impress my baby/babies when we met for the first time.
When Chris and I were called back into the room by a tech that, let’s just say isn’t the most cheerful, I was shaking, and I’m pretty sure my eyes were dilated. When she left us so I could get under the sheet, I’m pretty sure I shit an actual brick.
|See? Don’t let the smile fool you.|
I should have realized this was going to be awkward the moment she asked me how I was doing, and I said, “terrified,” with a little girl giggle, and all I got in return was a prim smile, like, “Honey I really don’t care what you’re actually feeling.”
So anyway, the tech and the doctor come in. And he’s really nice, we’ve had him for a prior IVF transfer, but he’s not my own doctor there, you know? The one who has invested the time and energy into me before we went to Texas.
I asked the tech if we could take a video of this, as all my friends encouraged me to do one. “You’ll bawl your eyes out!” they all said. She looks at us (do I detect annoyance?) and says, “Well, yes, but it gets long with the measurements, so I will let you know when you can.”
The tech is snapping her gloves on as Dr. C. is asking me how many we transferred and what medications I was taking. He then tell us that all we are looking for at this point is a gestational sac and the yolk sac.
“I always think it’s funny how these satellite clinics want an ultrasound done so early,” the tech sniffs, and then looks at me for confirmation.
Well. My special day was slowly starting to disintegrate. I resisted the urge to kick a slightly hairy leg in her direction.
She turns on the US and we see immediately one sac. And while her and the doctor start the measurements, I am left frantically skimming the screen.
Ok, I see one.
Is there another one?
I thought there would be another one?
What the hell am I even looking at?
“So…” I finally interrupt their measurements, “There’s one? There isn’t another?”
“Just one,” the doctor says.
“Not two?” I asked.
“Just one,” the tech repeats, with all the love and encouragement of a parole officer.
So I am sitting there, so totally not feeling the urge to cry over this whole stupid thing, while at the same time, silently panicking because NO ONE HAS CONFIRMED THAT THERE IS AN ACTUAL BABY IN THAT SAC.
“Ok,” the tech said in a bored voice, “You can take a video now.”
So Chris turns the video on on my phone, the tech is standing there and it is the most awkward 20 seconds of my life. Apparently she was too annoyed at this whole early US to be bothered with any commentary for the video of OUR PRECIOUS MIRACLE.
“Shut it off,” I muttered to Chris, and we moved on.
When the wand was out, and I was sitting up and the doctor left after saying the results would get faxed to my Texas clinic, I finally asked the tech, “So there was a baby in there right?”
“Yep,” she says, writing in my chart.
“For sure? Even though we can’t see it?”
“Yep.” She says again, before handing me my lab slip and telling me I can get my blood work done.
No congratulations. No enthusiasm. You guys, my first US pretty much blew ass.
It took me a couple hours after to not feel like crying in disappointment. But after some much needed pep talks, regardless of what the clinic staff think, I’d like to now introduce you to Baby Seaweed Kerslake.
|The blackness is the gestational sac, and that little halo on the left side of it, is the yolk sac. Baby Seaweed is, er, not able to be seen because she is way to cool for that right now. But she is in there somewhere.|
So what did I take away from today?
1) Some techs are assholes.
2) I wanted it to be twins. Obviously I wanted them both to make it. And I think I got caught up in the hype that everyone was thinking it was going to be twins, and it seemed to be an even bigger let down that it wasn’t.
3) I am trusting that one didn’t make it because my miracle baby needed the room to grow and thrive. And being disappointed that I couldn’t go back and tell everyone (loudly) that it was twins is a disservice to the one little here. Because it’s not “just the one.” You guys, this little one is so strong that she fooled everyone into thinking she was two babies. That is one rock star little girl.
4) I think she’s a girl. I mean, clearly she’s an overachiever.
I came home, made phone calls all afternoon, took a zombie walk with Chris and promptly fell asleep at 9:00.
But I did end up getting my lab results back.
Here is where we stand:
4/8/15 Beta #1: 564
4/10/15 Beta #1: 1224
4/13/15 Beta #3: 3655
You guys, I have a little baby in me. Next US is this Friday, when I am 6 weeks!