The pregnancy highs and lows continue.
The day before our twenty week anomaly scan, Debbie had some more minor spotting. Although it was brown which indicates old blood it was still a worry. This put a real dampener on what was going to be a fairly enjoyable experience. The combined worry of discovering an abnormality and the spotting made Friday morning extremely intense.
We arrived early at the maternity unit to ensure we got a parking space. Anyone who knows the extremely limited parking facilities at both the PDH and the Maternity Unit will understand. This gave us about 30 minutes to wait in the car.
We eventually made our way into the building and into the waiting room. The oppressively dark blue walls doing little to lighten our mood. Thankfully it wasn’t too long until we were called into the ultrasound room.
It was the same room as our twelve week scan but with a different sonographer. She was pleasant enough if not a little quiet. Little Flump appeared very quickly on the screen as we told her about the recent spotting. She checked the placenta; fine and nicely attached to the anterior wall of the uterus. No bleeding from there.
Her hands moved quickly over her keyboard as she slid the probe across Debbie’s exposed abdomen. Legs, two of. Arms, two of. Ten fingers, ten toes. Head measured, chest measured, femur measured. Nothing spoken, just the hum from the computer and the clicking of keys as the mouse cursor expertly gestured over the hazy black and white image of our child.
Heart. Four chambers. Beating rhythmically. My breath held as I awaited a verdict. Flipping between a colour enhanced view and the standard view. My layman eyes unable to decipher the hidden message. Back and forth. Panic beginning to rise. What has she seen? A hole in the heart? An undeveloped chamber? Blood flowing the wrong way. Back and forth once more. A spoken mumble, the cursor moves on. I find myself saying “Is the heart OK?” dumbly; “Oh yes, it’s fine” is the reply.
An almost audible sigh of relief and I’m not sure if it’s mine or Debbies. She shows us Flump’s crossed legs and says something about having nice big feet and hands. I say “It sounds like we’re having a Hobbit”. The sonographer laughs and then coos an ‘aw’. The note hanging in the air as it’s punctuated by a tut from Debbie. Flump responds by throwing her hands to her face as if crying. I apologise to my unborn child for being the first to upset her.
A few moments later and we’re handed three scan pictures and shown the door. We’re both relieved that everything is fine and Flump is perfectly developed. Though the relief is tangible, there still hangs the sour note from the slight spotting.
As promised, we embarked on our first shopping trip. I’ll cover this in more detail in a later blog entry where I’ll detail our nursery scheme choices and purchases in more detail. Suffice to say, like a starving man given food, we gorged on baby clothes. After spending so long walking past the baby sections in supermarkets and stores, it was a visceral shock just taking in the huge array of items. Their logos and slogans shouting their promises for attention. Underhand marketing tricks like vests with “I love my daddy” and “I love my mummy” were scoffed at before thrown into our trolley.
With a car boot full of clothes it finally feels like we’re having a baby. And it’s the best feeling in the world.