Today was scheduled to be just a routine OB visit, except it took place at the doc's new digs in London's fancy medical district. He's doing one clinic a week there, and it was convenient given where I'm working today. The only unpleasantness in advance was needing to drink a can of lucozade in preparation for the gestational diabetes test.
My amusement level was raised by seeing the names on the door, which included Dr Candour. I mentioned this to Dr OB, who said that this was a new venture by Dr Candour and one of his colleagues. Dr OB has been given space one day a week for his clinics. The clinic isn't really open yet, so all the equpment is shiny and new, and everything is very, well, polished. It's all very designer - one of those places where the chic upholstery fabric matches the artwork, if you know the kind of place.
The real fun and games started when the doc asked me to lie down on the (leather although covered with paper, and behind a leather screen) consulting-room bed, so he could listen to the heartbeat. He moved the probe gently around, and found my heartbeat several times, but couldn't, even after 7 minutes (I was counting to save my sanity) find the passenger's heartbeat. And although I'd felt her move not more than an hour before, I of course started to panic. The situation felt particularly ironic (or sucky, if you like), as (i) H had had problems getting there, so I'd told him to go home instead, and (ii) I'd just this morning got an email offering baby clothes on sale, and had been brave enough to purchase my first babygro. Very minimalist, I assure you, white egyptian cotton with two little footprints on the front in grey. Yes, of course this is the day my baby dies, I thought. Then I talked myself down off the metaphorical ledge using the conversation I've had in my head several times over the last few weeks. "No, my baby is not going to die, she's just not. We've got this far, damnit, we're going to have a baby." I know it's not logical, but repeating this in my head has been helpful to get through those moments where I panic because I haven't felt her for a while.
After 7 minutes, Dr OB went to get his "old-fashioned trumpet" to see if that would work better, but it didn't. So he escorted me downstairs to meet the very lovely sonographer in her very well-equipped sonography room. It even has an LCD screen set up, high on the wall opposite the bed, so that she doesn't have to turn the screen round to show you what's happening (although I don't quite understand why more clinics don't just turn the ultrasound machine around so that the sonographer has their back to you but the screen is facing towards you). The machine needed to boot up so there was a bit of downtime where Dr OB, the sonographer and I made polite, rather strained conversation. Then she apologised that her gel warmer wasn't on, squirted the cold gel on my stomach, and started the scan. She immediately showed us the heartbeat, at which point I nearly fainted with relief, and Dr OB disappeared to let her do a full growth check etc. Everything looked just fine, all measuring on track, and the passsenger is now head down. The sonographer carefully measured all the fibroids and said it looked ok for natural delivery to her, although the OB would have to decide in the end. The placenta still looks healthy, the passenger was bopping around with one arm up around her head, one leg tucked under her bum, and another stretched out along my side - "using all the available space," said the sonographer. So that was all ok.
The rest of the visit was rather uneventful. We discussed labour again, and Dr OB recommended I go check out this guidance on caesarians, to make sure I'm fully informed about what I want to do. So I'm off to read that shortly. He pointed out again that the stats are dramatically in our favour at this point, and that they will not take any chances with me at all, none at all. Which I do find reassuring (the second part rather than the first as we all know stats lie).
So I'm fine and the passenger is fine and it was just one of those afternoons. GD results will be in on Friday, fingers crossed those will be fine, too.
Whew! Glad you're both well. Tell her it isn't funny to scare her mother like that.
Posted by: Bittermama | Wednesday, 27 June 2007 at 18:10
So glad everything is okay.
Posted by: susie | Wednesday, 27 June 2007 at 18:12
I hate that you had this scare, but I'm proud that you were able to somewhat calm yourself with your mantra. And of course, VERY glad that your passenger is still growing like crazy, and even though her heartbeat was impossible to hear... it was just beating away in there, begging for a scan!
Posted by: hopefulmother | Wednesday, 27 June 2007 at 18:26
What a relief that everything is okay. Wow -- only 93 days to go!
Posted by: Kay/Hanazono | Wednesday, 27 June 2007 at 18:38
I am so glad that everything is okay!
Posted by: Mary Ellen | Wednesday, 27 June 2007 at 18:39
Fingers crossed for you :) X
Posted by: Artblog | Wednesday, 27 June 2007 at 18:47
Whew! REALLY happy to hear that all is well.
One of those days indeed.
Posted by: serenity | Wednesday, 27 June 2007 at 18:49
What a wonderful mantra! I believe it does help, so keep doing it. OBs generally are not known for their skill with ultrasound, so keep this in mind if they do it again. What an awful scare! I'm so glad to hear that everything looks right on track though. What a wonderful time! Enjoy every minute! (Comfort permitting, of course).
Posted by: Anna | Wednesday, 27 June 2007 at 18:56
Dear Thalia, this is so good to hear. So good! I'm sorry you had such a scare there, but at least it netted you an ultrasound... And I agree with your mantra -- you are going to have a baby. It's wonderful that your doctors are so protective of this pregnancy. It really sounds like you're in good hands.
I will go and read the material on caesareans now. Are you leaning towards one birth method, or have you not decided yet?
Good luck with the GD results!
Posted by: Kath | Wednesday, 27 June 2007 at 18:59
What a wonderful mantra! I believe it does help, so keep doing it. OBs generally are not known for their skill with ultrasound, so keep this in mind if they do it again. What an awful scare! I'm so glad to hear that everything looks right on track though. What a wonderful time! Enjoy every minute! (Comfort permitting, of course).
Posted by: Anna | Wednesday, 27 June 2007 at 19:04
oooooooh what a relief Thalia. That must have been the longest seven minutes plus of your life. Hidious. Your mantra sounds a good one though...tee-shirt worthy even. Hang in there...
xx
Posted by: OvaGirl | Wednesday, 27 June 2007 at 19:28
Sheesh, I can't imagine how you must have been panicking. Thank God all is well.
Posted by: starfish | Wednesday, 27 June 2007 at 19:54
Ugh- twenty minutes or more without confirmation of a heartbeat? That's just agonizing. So glad to hear all looks good. Hope the GD resuls are negative.
Posted by: Leggy | Wednesday, 27 June 2007 at 20:01
And then you kicked the OB smartly in the shins, right? When I remember this story, I'm going to just mentally add that to the end, okay?
Posted by: akeeyu | Wednesday, 27 June 2007 at 20:44
ugh, what a day! I would have been INSANE.
Good luck with the GD test.
Posted by: Jessica | Wednesday, 27 June 2007 at 21:16
You would have had to scrape me up off the floor after that one- very glad to hear all is OK....!
Posted by: B. Mare | Wednesday, 27 June 2007 at 22:32
So glad everyone is fine. Could do with the scan machine in the swanky consulting room though not downstairs adding extra minutes of worry!
Posted by: Betty M | Wednesday, 27 June 2007 at 23:43
Your little girl is keeping you on your toes already!
Glad it all had a happy ending.
Posted by: beagle | Thursday, 28 June 2007 at 00:05
I'm super impressed with your ability to calm yourself. I bet you'd make a great hostage negotiator... I'm glad to see that Passenger is ok. My Critter also likes to take up all available space. I bet those two would just love a recliner in there! I for one love the sweet diabetes drink.. it that wrong?
Posted by: Monica | Thursday, 28 June 2007 at 00:50
This madness will have us all grey haired! Thank Goodness T!
Posted by: Simone | Thursday, 28 June 2007 at 02:36
Oh, scary! Thank goodness everything is OK!
Posted by: Erin | Thursday, 28 June 2007 at 03:51
yikes! i have that same mental convo too.
dr. candour, ha!
Posted by: Sarah | Thursday, 28 June 2007 at 15:08
Oh Thalya, for a moment my heart dropped. I am soooo glad all is well.
Posted by: annmarie | Thursday, 28 June 2007 at 15:47
Glad all is still well in there!! Obviously kids do NOT wait until they are out to panic their parents on a regular basis...
Posted by: silene | Thursday, 28 June 2007 at 16:10
The first part of your post made me feel sick for you....I've done that part and hated it, thank god for access to ultrasound!
Are your fibroids that bad that you'd need a c-section? Just because I know some women whose fibroids shrunk in the last trimester quite a lot after being problematic in the first and second. They turned out fine, so I'm crossing my fingers for you as well.
Posted by: Aurelia | Friday, 29 June 2007 at 04:24
Phew - I'm glad to see that all is well with you and the passenger. I about to start advocating for routine u/s rather than that doppler crap. Seriously it'd be nice to just have them say lets take a look rather than lets try to find the heartbeat. I'm not into an anxiety producing appointment, but it sure sounds like yours was definitely anxiety producing. I'm glad to hear that all was fine in the end, but so sorry you had to live with any fear for even a moment. Hang in there and don't worry I have your mantra as well as Kath's and my own - God willing 9/28 for you, and God willing 9/30 for Kath and myself.
Posted by: Sami | Friday, 29 June 2007 at 14:07