And Now, the Very Long Version

Why can’t something be related to this pregnancy be easy? So it’s like we are back at square one, waiting to see if everything will be ok. Back to the starting line.

I need to write this out to get it out of my head. Skip this entire post if you are easily bored by bitter rantings and too much detail. I'm in no mood to edit.

To start with, our u/s technician had the personality of a troll. A bitter, mean, pissed off troll. She was very cold and impersonal. And her wanding technique sucked so much that it actually hurt for the first time during the trans-vaginal portion of the exam.

Despite the fact that almost every doctor and technician narrate every second of their exams, this one said nothing. I had to ask questions about the fuzzy images we saw: “Is that the head?” “Is the heart beating?” Which baby is that?” She grunted one-word answers and seemed vaguely bored and most definitely disinterested. At one point, Nicole asked her a question. The tech looked right at her, but didn’t answer.

Halfway through, the tech asked me how old I was and I answered. I asked her why…did that have to do with anything? And she said no, even had the gall to act like she was “just asking a question, that’s all.” (The doctor asked the same thing later when he came in…turns out they were asking for a reason.)

I ask continually if everything looks ok and she says continually that it all looks fine. Now I know she can’t really say anything, but I was quite clear with her about how nervous I was and how anxious I was. I don’t expect her to tell me about anything bad, but I am just pointing out that she is a cold-hearted liar. At least she could have said “The doctor needs to look at this” or “I just measure…the doctor explains what the pictures mean.” I know I am being picky here, but whatever.

We asked if we can find out the sexes and she seemed bothered by this. She said it was too early. Nicole asked when you can typically determine sex, and the tech said at 16 weeks. But I am 17 weeks? What the?

So she pokes around, trying to determine the sexes anyway and says “It looks like Baby A is a ….” And then stops. Nicole and I waiting anxiously to hear her answer. She doesn’t answer for about 5 minutes (seriously….five minutes). She stops and starts this sentence stem several times. And leaves us hanging. Finally she pulls that scanner thing off of me and says “looks like it is two girls.” Like it is an after-thought. Such a cold, distant, icy delivery. No “Baby A is and Baby B is,” to build suspense. No warmth. No smile. I turned to Nicole and made some comment like “Two girls…wow.” And the tech suddenly becomes Miss Chatty and says something like “Was that not what you were expecting?” in a kinda rude way. By now I am not easily holding my tongue and I respond something like “We were expecting two girls, or two boys or one of each.”

The tech goes to get the doctor on duty (standard procedure) and leaves Nicole and I alone for a few. I turn to Nicole and whisper that she is mean. I take mean people as a personal affront; they just wash of Nicole’s back. Then we talk gender. I’ll admit, I am a little disappointed there isn’t at least one boy. Someone to carry on Nicole’s last name (no boy babies on her side). Plus we both have a definite boys name picked out that we both love to pieces. And someone needs to watch football with Nicole and play golf with her because it isn’t going to be me (yes, I know girls can do this, too, but what a perfect if stereotypical and bonding mother/son activity).

Then the doctor comes in. He clicks through the pictures at a lightening rate. Like one picture per second. He gets to the picture of one head and stops. He starts saying “see this here” and my stomach just drops. His tone, the way he looked at us, I knew something was wrong. He goes on to describe choroid plexus cysts, and my head is spinning. Am also having a hard time with his (I think) Russian accent. I stop him and ask “which baby?” and he responds “both.”

Search the internet and there is tons of info about these cysts and how they can mean absolutely nothing. But search the internet for instances of BOTH twins having this and you’ll find zip. Nada. Barely a mention. What this means, I don’t know. But I do know that BOTH babies having cysts is bad news. And I did have those two miscarriages already. I may be going out on a limb here but how weird is it that both babies have this random marker? One is hard enough to deal with. But both?? Sounds like I make some bad eggs.

These cysts are, unfortunately, a soft marker for some serious stuff. And my advanced maternal age (all of 34) is another soft marker. We are up to two markers. The wild card here is were there any other markers? The doctor said the heart and organs looked fine. But we didn’t think to ask about the clenched fist. (One of our 15 take-home u/s pictures shows Baby B’s clenched fist. Clenched fists are a very bad sign.) The doctor didn’t talk to us about clenched fists. He just said I should speak with the genetic counselors and sent us over there.

But it’s both babies.

We received the red carpet treatment in the genetic suite. They spoke with us right away. The counselor was so nice, but I hated that I was some textbook anecdote: “If the patient is despondent and hysterical, gently push a box of tissues across your text and repeat how sorry you are to even have to talk about this with her…” and other trite textbook case scenarios that she undoubtedly acted out in the grad classes. I hate crying in front of ANYONE, even Nicole. I asked for a pen and paper and she gives me a pad of paper. One sheet would suffice, I’d like to think. We went over the options. The counselor made it clear that everything could be just fine. But everything could also be all wrong. I guess thsi day wouldn't be complete without discussions of fetocide. But these tests I’ve done are screenings and these finding are only markers. Only amnio tells for sure. Suddenly my 1 in 9,200 screening stat evaporates and we are on the amnio path.

So we are doing amnio with FISH. I know FSH, but not this F.I.SH, and I am too weary to google more. FISH results typically take 36 hours, but since ours will be done on a Friday, we will have to wait till Monday or Tuesday to get the answers. The FISH checks for Trisomy 13 and 21, Downs Syndrome and X and Y. So we will be able to find out for certain the sexes and see if Tech Doom was right about two girls. And we will know for certain if either or both babies have Trisomy or DS. I’m not sure why then we wait for the amnio results 10 to 14 days later, but that’s what we do. I think amnio shows other defects and abnormalities. I’ll have to pay attention better tomorrow.

And here I thought we would celebrate today’s stunning sonogram with icebox cake and dinner, and I would be happily scanning in 4D pictures to share.

So hear I am. It’s almost 11:00 on Thursday night and I haven’t eaten since noon. I am pissed off that we can’t have a normal or easy pregnancy, free of crap like this. I am pissed that Nicole has to rearrange her work schedule yet again to accommodate this stupid stuff. I am scared to have amnio. I am terrified that one or both babies are going to have a serious chromosomal abnormality. I’m scared that amnio is going to kill them. (My first act as a mother? Putting my children in danger’s way to risk amnio. Give me mother-of-the-year-award) I am pissed off that I have to miss the first day of classes for my last semester (over achiever that I am) and that I had to email my professors and explain that I won’t be in class. I am pissed off that I am on bed rest for a day. I am annoyed that we had to cancel a visit from our first-grader nephew because, let’s face it, I am too much of a mess/selfish this weekend to even think about seeing other people and I am not one to ever be distracted in times like these by anyone or anything. I am pissed that if this pregnancy doesn’t make it, then I am fat and have miles and miles to go to get back into shape, without the benefit and solace of having a baby that made me that way. I am annoyed that I am too impatient to wait even three or four days for results. I am pissed that my usually-absent mother actually called for a change, but said after I summed up the day’s finding with “so today wasn’t such a good day,” she responds with “Maybe tomorrow will be a great day.” I doubt that! I'm pissed that this awful news might make other women who are pregnant and scared much more scared. I am annoyed that “amnio” and “Trisomy” aren’t even in my computer’s dictionary. I am annoyed that these cysts appear in 1 to 2 percent of all pregnancies and ONCE AGAIN I hit these odds. I’ve never seem to have met a long shot that I couldn’t ace. And I am mad at the world because I had to see my stronger-than-anyone-I-know girlfriend cry and feel her tears on my arm and not be capable of making HER feel better for once in my freaking life.

Amnio is 8:30 tomorrow morning. The best part was when the counselor said to us that after the amnio, no sex for 24 hours. Because nothing puts me in the mood like amnios and cyst-on-the-brain and potential chromosomal problems. Is she kidding me with that?? Do people really hop into bed and get it on? Did I really need the “nothing in the vagina” speech? At least it made me laugh.

Thank you all so, so much for you encouraging words and personal anecdotes and support. As you all know—most likely from being in some sort of similar horrific situation—it means so much. Like invisible strings helping to keep me up. If you read to the end of this post, you deserve some sort of medal.