Seven Weeks

Today I am the most pregnant I’ve ever been — officially 6w6d pregnant. (By the time most of you read this, though, it will be Wednesday, when I will be a whole seven weeks’ pregnant!)

As each of the past 13 days crept closer to my first ultrasound appointment, the dread and the excitement intensified. Last night, I slept fitfully between getting up to pee and dreams of ultrasounds where we saw one heartbeat.

That’s all I wanted, to see at least one healthy embie with a heartbeat.

I got up and immediately had to use the bathroom, I was so nervous. I showered, and as the water ran over my shoulders, I placed my hand over my lower belly and said a simple Please… There wasn’t much more to say.

The drive to the clinic was long — my stomach still churning — and the nurse was running 30 minutes late. As DH and I sat in the waiting room, he tried to read, and I sat, frozen, clutching my handbag. DH made me laugh by pointing to pictures of people at charitable functions in the back of San Diego magazine and asked me which people I’d most want to spend an evening with. He chose the three guys with crazy hair. I chose the couples with fun glasses and arty dress. A couple came in — him, with a white paper bag which he gave to the receptionist, and her, wearing a comfy-looking velour tracksuit — and minutes later their names called by a woman in scrubs who led them through a doorway DH and I never crossed through. I understood then that they were here for their IVF retrieval, and my heart soared for them and I started to cry.

My eyelashes were still wet when my name was finally called. Lovely J, the junior nurse who usually collects me from the waiting room, led us to an exam room and asked me a few questions. I whispered my answers.

Have you been taking your progesterone morning and night? Yes.
Have you had any nausea or vomiting? Nausea, yes; vomiting, no.
Have you had any spotting or cramping? Yes, both, but nothing that has concerned me.
Okay, the nurse will be right with you. Breathe! grinned J. (I guess I am normally a lot more bubbly!)

I undressed from the waist down, and clutched my Jizo pebble in my left hand. Moments later, my favourite nurse, T, came in. (She’s the one who told us how much she enjoys our donor’s company when Nellie goes in for her exams.) She asked how I was doing, and when I said Nervous, because I haven’t had much luck with first ultrasounds… she said we would get right to it and we’ll go over the questions after, which both DH and I appreciated.

Feet in stirrups, DH and I held hands, Jizo pebble wedged between our palms, and the ultrasound began. At first there was nothing to see, the screen was a mottled grey. Our hands squeezed tighter. I began to despair, I almost began to panic — but suddenly a black oblong swam into view. A few seconds later, T quickly confirmed I see a heartbeat.

A heartbeat? It took a few seconds to sink in. We have a heartbeat!

It was hard to see because the embryo is so tiny — just 6mm long, perfectly on track for 6w6d, but almost 10,000 times larger than s/he was 5 weeks ago — but there was this tiny flicker of life. It was one of the most surreal, spellbinding delights of my life. I present a very grainy ultrasound photo of Baby A:

What remains to be seen is if there is a Baby B. The part of the sac where the embryo would be was kind of fuzzy, so it was hard to make out if there was an embryo, much less a heartbeat. The sac measures the same size as Baby A’s, so it could be a blighted ovum — where the sac keeps growing after the embryo stops growing — or we just might not have been able to see Baby B. We won’t know what’s what until next week’s ultrasound. Privately, DH and I think that the nurse thinks it’s a blighted ovum. We’re okay if Baby B didn’t make it, as long as Baby A is okay. And if Baby B was playing his first game of peekaboo, then we’ll have a surprise next week!

I asked if my risk of miscarriage has gone down now that we’ve seen a heartbeat, but T said I’m still at the usual risk (13%, slightly higher than the usual 10% as I have had a miscarriage before), but that if there’s still a heartbeat next week then it will drop down to 5%. She advised me to call my OB to make an appointment for when I graduate from the RE’s in a couple of weeks’ time, also because if I have any questions on, say, morning sickness, I have someone to call. (RE’s are in the business of getting women pregnant, not actually dealing with pregnancy, which makes sense.)

So I have my next ultrasound next Tuesday April 1st, when I will be 7w6d and where we will see if Baby A is still thriving and if there’s a Baby B.

I have my final ultrasound the following Tuesday April 8th, when I will be 8w6d, whereupon I ‘graduate’ from RE to OB.

And my first ultrasound with my OB is the next day, Wednesday April 9th, when I will be 9 weeks’ pregnant. That day is also my birthday, so I’m hoping for the following gift: a short, stress-free wait in That Waiting Room, followed by a long, delightful ultrasound appointment in which I get to see a healthy baby and hear his or her heartbeat.

I arrived at the clinic clutching my stomach, and left clutching a “Baby’s First Photo” card with two ultrasounds taped inside. Today was a good day. I am officially, undeniably, seriously-guys-this-is-real, clinically knocked up. B-boom-b-boom-b-boom!