20 Week Ultrasound

Oop! I forgot to mention one more thing I got for my birthday that was really cool: Justin and Maggie (friends from work) got me a cool thing that allows me to listen to the baby's movements and heartbeat with ear phones. It runs on a 9 volt battery, and it is -like- basically a stethoscope with a mic in it or something. It's totally sweet. It also allows for recording as well, which I am hoping to do once I capture this kid's heartbeat. In the meantime, we're able to hook up to headphones to it to listen, and we've been able to hear swishing sounds as this kid break dances in my belly. It says in the instruction manual that you may not be able to hear the heartbeat until the third trimester, so it may be awhile on that yet. It's still pretty cool. I'd never heard of one of those for home use before. Oh, man. The ultrasound was today. Let me just begin that whole saga with this: I had to drink 32 ounces of water between 7:30 a.m. and 8 a.m. I was told to be at the hospital at 8 a.m., ready to go. I was there about ten minutes early with Willis, water gone by 8 a.m. on the dot (believe you me, I spread it out as much as possible). I got in and registered fairly quickly, and then we had to go sit and wait in the X-Ray/Radiology area. We sat there for about 40 minutes (nearly in tears, and nearly sitting in my own pee) before I turned to Willis and said, "Do you think you could go to the desk and ask them if they have any idea how long this is going to be?" So, Willi got up, went over to the desk, and politely asked them about how long they thought it would be before we'd begin the ultrasound. He mentioned that it had been over an hour since I was asked to start taking in fluids, and I was beginning to be extremely uncomfortable. The ladies seemed a bit flustered and surprised, and they started trying to track down the technician that was supposed to be seeing me. They told him that they'd get back to him about that as soon as they get a call back (they had called the room, and apparently the lady wasn't there). They also said that if I "absolutely have to go," I could just let out a little bit of urine to relieve the pressure. When he told me this, I thought, "Uh . . . is that even possible?" It's possible. Five minutes after waiting for a response and getting no answers, I decided it had to be done. Even if someone came at that moment to get me, I knew I'd pee somewhere in the hallway in transit to the ultrasound rom. So . . . I peed a little bit. Just a trickle. It was painful. I about cried, but it was possible. As soon as I stepped out of the bathroom, the technician was standing there waiting for me with Willis—looking fairly annoyed. She walked us back to the room (at ten minutes til 9:00 a.m.), had me lay down (the table fell a little as I laid down which was total murder to the bladder that was still very, very full—full enough that I didn't have to drink any more water even after peeing a little), and then she took the measurements she needed with the full bladder. Then, she told me I could go to the bathroom and empty it. That was a relief considering I couldn't think about anything but trying not to pee and/or cry during the experience. After a few moments, it occurred to me that this was obviously not going to be a 4D ultrasound (I'm quite certain my CNM had led me to believe that we'd be doing a 4D ultrasound, and I was really looking forward to it), so I asked the technician, "Now . . . is this just a regular ultrasound, or is it going to be the 4D ultrasound?" In the coldest voice ever, the lady goes, "No. We don't have 4D." So . . . I had to get over that while I was trying to decipher what we were looking at on the screen. (I had to somewhat crane my neck to watch what was happening as this session was clearly not something that's for the parents to enjoy.) The lady was not at all forthcoming with any information about what we were seeing, etc. She had mentioned that she can't tell us anything about measurements, etc. because she doesn't read the ultrasound—she only takes measurements and photos. So, we understood that and what it could mean for her, but we thought she could've at least been like, "This is your baby's butt, etc." While she was shifting around the ultrasound head, I was able to catch glimpses of the baby and its features (or what I believed to be the baby and its features). I saw its little fists of fury, moving about like I thought they'd be. I saw it move its head a little bit. I wished she'd have taken a bit more time at those moments so that we might have been able to watch it move a little longer. So . . . the kid is active and alive, and that's good news. Other than that, we didn't really garner any serious knowledge other than the due date is still basically the same and there's only one in there. She guessed the sex (and still claimed it was too early to tell even though I'll be 19 weeks tomorrow), and said, "If I have to guess, I'd say it's probably a girl, but don't throw out your receipts." What do you do with that? You can't go rightly telling everyone you're going to have a little girl with a statement like that. What if we're wrong? So . . . we're still not having a clue as to what the sex is. I suppose that's alright and all, but . . . I was kind-of looking forward to knowing. I called the doctor's office today to ask about when we'd find out the "real" information about the ultrasound (after a radiologist reads the information), and I also talked about my experience and how unfulfilling it was. From what I could gather, this experience wasn't normal . . . so . . . that's both sad and a relief, I suppose. Anyway . . . without further ado, I'll show you the only photos that the technician supplied us with today. This is the profile of the baby: face, shoulders, upper torso, and arms, I think. I'm not too terribly sure about that since she didn't really tell us . . . That's our baby's alien face in there. *sigh* I just totally thought it'd be so much cooler than it was.