|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| … and baby makes three |
||
 Missed the first month? What about the second or third month? Read all about it. |
 |
Second Trimester, First Month |by jerri andreasen
I turned 37 years old on September 24th. The following week, Liz's dad died. And the day after that, Liz and I had another doctor appointment that led to some scary concerns surfacing about the health of the baby. For us, the fourth month of pregnancy has been quite eventful, to say the least. We showed up from the doctor's appointment weary after the death of Liz's father and hoping for an uplifting look at a healthy baby. The doctor listened to the baby's heartbeat, which sounded great, whooshing away at around 150 beat per minute. She also took blood from Liz for the Triple Screen test. This test measures the levels of alpha fetaprotein (AFP), hCG, and estriol in Liz' blood. These levels can screen for genetic problems such as neural tube defects, Spina Bifida, and Down syndrome. Liz hates needles of any kind, so I always go stand with her and hold her hand during the blood draw. The technician and I try to keep Liz talking and distracted while the blood is taken. Poor thing. A horrendous appendectomy experience when she was barely a teenager has given her a strong aversion to needles of any kind. But it seemed like we got through the appointment okay. Liz's appendectomy scar has come to be a symbol of how much a woman's body changes in pregnancy. It used to be a horizontal scar on her right abdomen about four inches long. It's now twice that. At first we were worried whether the scar would cause a problem as she got bigger. We haven't had any problems at all (beyond a little itching, maybe) but watching it stretch has been fascinating. Sometimes it's hard to accurately gauge how Liz's body has changed over these past weeks, but the added length of this scar is a pretty good measure. Liz left for her father's funeral on Saturday, October 3rd, and wasn't to return to Seattle until Tuesday morning, October 6th. I came home from work Monday night to a message on our answering machine from our doctor. She said she wanted to talk to Liz about the results of the triple screen, and she would call her at work. I was immediately concerned, since Down syndrome is typically associated with pregnancies in older women ("older women" meaning women age 35 and older). I spent a very nervous and stressful night at home alone. The next morning I got to work bright and early and called our doctor's office. Our doctor was out for the day, but I got to speak to another doctor — the one we had originally been referred to — and she told me that the triple screen test had come out with a positive screen for Down syndrome. She explained that a positive screen did not mean that the baby definitely had Down syndrome — just that more tests were needed. She said that the AFP was normal and the hCG was higher than expected. This was good and bad news. The good news is that low AFP is usually associated with Down syndrome. Liz didn't have that. The bad news was that high hCG is associated with Down syndrome. Liz did have that. The doctor said that our next step was to get a level II ultrasound. With the results of that ultrasound we could get genetic counseling and decide if we wanted amniocentesis. In amniocentesis, the amniotic fluid surrounding the fetus is sampled with a needle inserted into the woman's abdomen. Fetal cells floating in the fluid are grown and examined for chromosomal abnormalities, such as the extra chromosome 21 that causes Down syndrome. Knowing Liz's dread of needles, the idea of sticking a big, long needle through her stomach into her uterus (and near the baby) wasn't something I thought she'd want to contemplate unless absolutely necessary. We already had a level II ultrasound scheduled three weeks later, so I asked the doctor if we should wait until then. She said no, that she wanted us in that same week. I got the number of the nuclear medicine lab and made an appointment for that day. I left work shortly thereafter to pick Liz up from the airport. I really didn't want to have to break this news to her right when she was coming back from her father's funeral. She got off the plane upset. The funeral and reception hadn't really been planned in a way that made her and her siblings feel included, and smoking was allowed in Liz's father's house during the reception, which caused problems for folks with allergies and asthma, including Liz, her sister, and her sister-in-law. A few other things had not gone as planned and, well, Liz was upset about her dad's passing. I talked with her as we left the airport and walked out to the car. Finally, when we got in the car, I told her about the test results and our ultrasound appointment that afternoon. She just sat there for a moment, then started to cry. The stress of so much happening at the same time had just gotten to her. She asked me to drive — just get out of the airport parking garage. As we drove towards work, we talked about the possibility of having a child with Down syndrome. I was glad to finally have someone to talk to about it. It's odd. I'd been worried about the possibility of my having a Down syndrome child because of my age — it had never occurred to me to be concerned that Liz might have one. I told her that on hearing the news I'd suddenly felt like I had to say goodbye to my child's future potential. Could I deal with having a child who, at best, might always be a child, and at worst, might only live a few years and die of heart problems? I'd been so worried about knowing how to raise a child, never having had younger siblings to care for. And now I was faced with the possibility of having a child that I'd have to care for forever. Liz had some of the same concerns. Fortunately, she had also worked with Down syndrome kids, and knew that their degree of disability ran the gamut from kids who sat and rocked all day long to those who were highly functional. We decided to stop and eat breakfast at Denny's on the way to work and talk a little more. I told her that the doctor had said that we could opt for amniocentesis. The test would tell us absolutely for sure whether our child had Down syndrome, but couldn't tell us the severity. We decided to take things one step at a time. At some point during our breakfast, I had what felt like an epiphany. It was like a light went on inside my head, and my body relaxed and I started to smile. I realized that I would love our kid no matter what. And I realized that I could have a kid with Down syndrome and be really happy. I could raise this child. No matter what. I just knew that everything was going to be okay. I told this to Liz, and I think it made a difference for her. At least I hope it did. I already knew before I picked her up at the airport that, for me, having a Down syndrome child was not a good enough reason to terminate the pregnancy. Liz felt the same way (I knew she would), and we left Denny's feeling clearer and stronger. And, I think, a little more in love with our baby. The ultrasound that afternoon was amazing. It took an hour, and the baby was very active, moving around a lot. And we saw everything. The four chambers of the heart, the kidneys, spine, stomach, arms, legs, feet, head‹. The technician didn't see any of the usual signs of Down syndrome: thickened nuchal fold (skin thickness at the back of the baby's neck, I think), shortened femur and humerus, heart defects, etc. She also studied the blood flow through the cord and in the baby's heart, and recorded an echocardiogram. After the technician was done, she took the results to the head doctor of the clinic. The doctor came in, ran the ultrasound to look at a couple things and said that everything looked great. The measurements they took of the baby's head, arms, and legs were right on for the stage we were at. This is really encouraging news. The doctor emphasized that this didn't rule Down syndrome out — only amniocentesis could do that. Ultrasound can only catch about 60 percent of Down syndrome cases. But this was good enough for us. Since we're not going to terminate the pregnancy due to Down syndrome anyway, we didn't see any reason to go through having an amniocentesis, particularly with the risk that amniocentesis itself presents to the baby. We'll wait to find out when the baby's born. So we left the ultrasound appointment much happier. We also left with a new still photo of the baby, and a five-minute videotape. And we know the sex of the baby! The technician asked if we wanted to know, and we said yes. At first she couldn't really tell, because the baby's legs were crossed, making it difficult to see the important bits. I was glad to know that modesty wasn't dead. She had Liz roll onto her side, then back. When she looked again, the baby's legs were wide open. So much for modesty. The technician said she was 95 percent certain we were having a girl. Wow! A girl! We were actually expecting a boy. We've decided to call her Maya Angela. She'll be named after Maya Angelou, a woman we both admire, and Liz's sister Angela, who died when Liz was a teenager. It's nice, because Angela was named after Liz's dad, Angel, so it's sort of a tribute to him, too. And I hope if the baby turns out to be a boy after all, he won't mind that we were calling him Maya in utero. Here's the still photo we got. I think she was trying to get her thumb into her mouth. 
The last couple of weeks were pretty uneventful, pregnancy-wise. Liz has spent a lot of time trying to coordinate helping her sister and niece plan to move away from Florida. They both need some level of assistance in their living situation. It's a long story, but Liz's sister plans move to Montana to live with their mother, and Liz has been trying to find a place for her niece, either in Seattle near us, or in Montana so she can be near her mom. Navigating the labyrinthine human services network takes Herculean (or Xenan) stamina. If anyone can do it, Liz can. Meanwhile she snores louder and longer at night, and struggles harder and harder to reach her shoelaces in the morning. If I have to deal with the snoring at night, at least I get a chuckle in the morning. Once cool thing — Liz thought she felt Maya move for the first time a couple weeks after the ultrasound. That would have been week 20, so she's right on schedule for that. She said at first she thought it was a gas bubble, but it went horizontally across her stomach, like a little elbow or foot moving across. She's since thought she felt it one more time. I got so excited the second time that I went to a baby store and bought this device that's supposed to let you hear your baby in utero. It's probably a bit early for it to really work, but we keep trying it, and I thought I might have heard the heartbeat last night. This is week 22. We think we should be able to hear the heartbeat (oh! And hiccups! How cute!) by week 30, which coincides with Christmas, so we'll bring it with us when we visit my family. Here are some resources on the triple screen test:
|
