Ultrasound

Yesterday, Thursday the 22nd, Theric and I got to take a black-and-white look at the tiniest Thteed via ultrasound.

Let me end the suspense right now by telling you we did NOT find out the sex.

Also, that all appears well with the baby.

It was nice to see it and witness that it is, in fact, a baby, and not some strange alien creature with multiple arms or seven eyes. No, this baby has two legs, two arms, feet with five toes each as well as hands, each with five fingers. There are two nostrils, lips, eyes and a brain. All major organ systems seem to be developing correctly and the heart has four chambers. We can assume, at this point, that the baby will be healthy. Though once it realizes what sort of family it has moved into, it might not be happy.

Ultrasounds are pretty amazing. That there are technologies that let us look inside our bodies to see our organs and make sure all is well is almost mind boggling. It appeared to me that the technology has made some progress since our last one in 2003. The resolution seemed much clearer--it was easy to recognize the parts of the baby. Before the tech told me what something was, I usually had it figured out--because the hand actually looked like a hand!

So, ultrasounds = good.

But let me share with you why I wasn't looking forward to it all the same.

You may have heard that when a woman is pregnant she has to urinate more often than when not pregnant. For me this is very very true. I have to pee all the time. It's annoying and uncomfortable. And now that the baby is active, it seems it enjoys using my bladder as its personal trampoline and punching bag. All can be well then all of the sudden getting to a toilet is of the utmost importance. Lest I have an accident.

With this in mind, what do you think the cruelest thing you could do to a pregnant lady is? In my book it's telling her to drink 32oz of water in a half-hour period, one hour before her scheduled ultrasound, with no urinating until the exam is completed. I was nearly in tears I had to pee so bad. I couldn't sit down so I paced the office while I waited the tortuous twenty minutes for my name to be called. I should have been really excited to see my baby but I was not. All I wanted was to pee. I walked the same short hallway over and over, looking at the same six pictures with a contorted face as I tried to keep it all in.

When you schedule, they remind you, more than once, that if you don't drink all that water, or should you go pee, you might have to reschedule and come back and do it all over again.

I did not want to do it all over again, but neither did I want to piddle in my pants.

However, as Theric can attest, I told him (more than once), "I don't care. I'm going pee. I just won't have an ultrasound. This isn't worth it. Not even close. I'm sure the baby is fine. I'm going pee." Then I would walk away and pace some more, waging battle with my bladder. I could see the public restroom from my pacing spot--it was only maybe fifteen steps away, fifteen short steps, fifteen sweet, sweet steps . . . .

What I went through may be classified as torture.

And I did not make it.

The lure of the loo pulled me in and I relieved myself before my name was called.

You must think me a very weak person.

But let me tell you:

It

Was

Worth it.

I did restrain myself somewhat however and did not empty my bladder fully. I figured I could still leave enough in there to make my bladder visible on screen. 32 oz is a lot of water. Leaving the restroom I still had to pee but the threat of a serious accident was past. About two minutes after leaving the restroom my name was called.

The technician was very nice. She got me on the table quickly and started the ultrasound while explaining to me why I had to drink all that hellwater. I thought it had to do with looking at the baby, but no. You drink that water so they can easily find your cervix and take an important measurement that lets them know whether or not you are at risk for preterm labor. Ah! Now it made sense. I thought they were just being mean. She took the measurement on screen then told me I could go to the bathroom. Alleluia! Bless you, tech lady!

Emptying one's bladder is one of life's greatest pleasures.

And I got to do it twice during the ultrasound because my bladder filled back up and got in the way.

With the addition of urination breaks, the rest of the ultrasound went fine. We got a lot of pictures, and my suspicions were confirmed: The baby is using my bladder as a trampoline. We watched it stomping on the big black circle that was my bladder: Left, right, left, right, left, right. Getting superduper leverage because it has Theric's extra-long thighs. Left, right, left, right, left, right. This child is not starting things off with me on a very good foot. Left, right, left, right, left, right. In fact, right now, I'm none too pleased with either of its feet.