Domestic Surveillance Program

This is my uterus on surveillance:

I don't think this is the kind of thing for which the Bush Administration is seeking approval, but just in case they are interested, that's what's going on down there.

Yesterday morning, Pete and I went in for First Trimester Screening and Ultrasound. Pete was observing and did not need screening, although he might be in his first trimester as well, judging by the aforementioned moodswings. We got a look at the little bugger for the first time, but it wasn't just for fun. In fact, it's mostly business. Because I am going to be 38 years old, this is termed an "elderly" and "high risk" pregnancy. I have no chronic medical conditions, I am on no medications, all my 13 tests so far have deemed me to be a healthy individual, but I am old, so this is high risk behavior.

The ultrasound technician was taking measurements of the skin a region under the skin behind the fetus's neck. It's called the "nucal translucency test," and in combination with a maternal blood screening, these testes tell whether or not the fetus has an increased risk of Down syndrome and Trisomy 18. I could also help detect certain heart defects or skeletal problems.

I understood what was going to happen before I went in, but they succeeded in thoroughly confusing me with the process in the clinic. We went in first for the ultrasound, and I had trouble with the technician's accent. She took the measurements and the pictures, and then she said something about a doctor having to sign off, but the doctor would not be in until 9, and that they had tried to reschedule this appointment. None of that made sense to me. She said I might have to come back upstairs after going downstairs. She gave me two sheets of paper to take to the lab and told me it was on Level C. She did not tell me why I was going to the lab. I knew that I needed to have blood drawn, and I suppose I could have made the connection, but she was also talking about the tests she was doing related to the ultrasound. Not to mention that the building was divided into numbered floors, and "C" is not a number.

It was 8:00 on a Monday morning. I guess I needed more clarity.

We went downstairs, to "Level C" which meant "Concourse," and which would have made sense to me, and I handed the woman at the Lab desk the two sheets of paper. She told me to sit down. I did, and I finally figured out that those papers were related to the blood test. They did not say that in layperson terms.

I don't really mind having blood drawn. I don't watch when they put the needle in, but it's not such a bad thing overall.

This time, it hurt. It hurt the entire time. I don't think she did it very well. But I had better get used to discomfort, after all. That's what the first and third trimester are all about, after all. Not to mention that I hear labor can be a tad uncomfortable, too.

It's nice to have a visual. It does make it more real, and after The Scare, it's nice to have visual as well as aural confirmation of its existence, if the exhaustion, sore boobs, queasiness, and weight gain were not enough.

They gave us our screen captures in an envelope. I did not notice until I got them out later that the envelope was decorated with this:


Dear lord, the cuteness starts.

I can tell you one thing: I don't think I would need all these blood tests and internal images if the stork were responsible for this.