The past two weeks have been a blur of excitement, change, nervousness, and a test on my patience.
Where do I begin?
The week of November 1st, the 10th week of pregnancy, Jeff and I met with genetic counselor Dr. Sarah A. Jackson. Because of my age, she felt it was crucial for me to know my options on genetic testing. Sitting in her office, holding hands and divulging family conditions, Jeff and I felt relieved that someone was taking such an intimate insight into our pregnancy. After filling her in, Dr. Jackson informed us of the difference between a Chorionic villus sampling test and amniocentesis.
With CVS testing being the earliest of options, it seemed like Dr. Jackson (and Dr. Sellers) were pushing for this to happen in the next week. Dr. Jackson brought up a few good points: Though it may seem like a riskier test as it's fairly invasive and requires a numbing of the test site, it would be the earliest way for us to know how to move past our concerns of chromosomal defects. With that information, we could either begin to prepare for the health insurance battle of taking care of a baby with extra health needs or move forward with the pregnancy with less concern.
So, we decided in favor of the CVS test.
Later that week, on Friday, we found ourselves in Dr. Sellers office. Jeff, having skipped his lunch hour for the 4:00p.m. appointment, held my hand as we had our first ultrasound.
Through all the drama and irony, numbing pain and frustration, shock and delight, we witnessed a miracle unfold on the black and white monitor: This baby, tiny and barely even noticeable to the untrained eye, had defied so many odds just to make it this far. But, somehow that little heart was pumping along with no concern of how many obstacles it had overcome.
I cried. Jeff teared up. And the ultrasound tech even sat in awe, after we had filled her in on our journey to get here. French Polynesia could never have given us this much satisfaction.
Dr. Sellers completed the ultrasound and prepped me for the CVS test. Jeff sat valiantly at my side, though he is also a needle phobic like me. But, before the amazement of seeing our baby for the first time could wear off, Dr. Sellers was done.
Then, it became a waiting game that tested my mental strength. Part of me wanted to hear the results right away, just to stop over thinking the issue. I kept having panicked dreams that the test results showed nothing whatsoever and that the ultrasound hand lied, like this had been some elaborate hoax to test a gullible woman.It was awful. Then, part of me just never wanted to know the answers until the baby arrived: I kept asking myself what benefit was it to really have all the answers now. Could anything even be done if the test results came back with signs of a genetic defect? Could I really live with the guilt with the news that early on? I kept having mental arguments, time and time again. And, by the way Jeff dove head first into grading classwork, I knew that he was going through the same mind games.
Two days ago we were called with the results.
"Mrs. Edwin, as for right now you are in the clear. Your test results do not show any genetic defects."
Sweet relief.
