So we made a little trip out of our doctors appointment. We stayed for two nights in Laguna Beach. We hiked around the beach, tried out some new restaurants wishing desperately that I could drink (after all I was stressed). The morning came for our appointment. Then there is the “doctor office wait” you make an appointment for a certain time, you make sure you are there on time and no matter what, you wait… and wait… We are put into the Ultra Sound room and I sit on the table in the most vulnerable of positions which involve a paper “blanket” for your “privacy”. And we WAIT…. and more intense waiting…. and more anxious waiting… for at least a half hour or more. The whole time I’m trying not to allow my mind to go to the place in which we end the trip in tears and disappointment. The next few minutes will dictate our future! I’m holding back anxious tears while we distract ourselves with Conde Nast Traveler.
So the results were there was a heartbeat. A very very tiny tiny heartbeat. I am now quite familiar with ultrasounds and know exactly what I’m looking at and know what should and shouldn’t be there. I new it looked very small and I knew the heart rate was too slow. But he said it was all consistent with 6 weeks rather than 7 weeks. This is something that baffles me. Doctor go by what’s called Crown Rump Length or CRL. It baffles me that they trust those measurements more than a women who knows her body and know exactly when she became pregnant. He says I must have ovulated a week later than I thought. [!!!!!!!!!!!!!] that is a scream of disbelief. I know exactly when we got pregnant so the only other explanation is, it’s developing too slow. However this early in the pregnancy it may not mean a whole lot. I realize that despite what doctors may think, this is not an exact science.
So it was kind of like I imagined. I pictured the worse case scenario and where I would go from here and what I would do with the 40 vials of Lovenox injections sitting in my drawer. Then I pictured the best case scenario which meant that we continue to hold our breath for another two weeks. Then I imagined the other likely scenario of “well….” it’s good and it’s bad… which just involves more breath holding and a touch of added stress. So there you have it. The “well… come back next week and we’ll check it again.”
So in my effort to stay positive and send good vibes to our little fetus we have given it a name. Micro Baby. The teeny tiny fighter. Sounds like a super hero with a tag line. HA! Yeah, Micro Baby. The teeny tiny crime fighter, fighting off evil Cytokins and big bad NK’s (Natural Killers). Yeah that’s perfect.