16 Week Scan

This scan was a bonus. At my 13 week scan, they had said "see you at 20 weeks" to which I replied, "Absolutely not." Well, that's what I said in my head anyway. Out loud it was probably something more like, "Ok, um, it's just that I got told I'd be monitored quite closely, but if you think 20 weeks, but is there any way, if it wasn't too much trouble..." etc etc. My report from that 13 week scan said something like "patient is anxious so will be seen at 16 weeks." And so the magical '16 week scan' was born. I knew that anxiety would pay off eventually!

Because this was just a bit of an 'in-between' scan, Chris decided to give it a miss. I invited mum to come along instead, and I'm so glad I did. She squinted at the sonographer's tiny screen until the large TV above us was pointed out. I was worried. This week I had somehow felt less pregnant. I couldn't quite put my finger on it but I was worried. The sonographer approached the scan with a relaxed attitude, which helped. She squirted the cold jelly onto my belly and pressed the wand into my belly. Immediately I knew the baby was ok. Mum sat back and watched as baby rolled, kicked, yawned and more. We watched blood flow through both sides of the heart, its spine was crystal clear and its little arms moved around. Soon though, it was time for the second part of this ultrasound. The part I was actually here for.

I ducked into the bathroom, stripped off my bottom half, and laced my arms through the purple gown. I didn't even both doing it up. Held together with my hands at the back I shimmied past the sonongrapher and sat down on the blue puppy-pee pad that had been laid out for me. The purple gown draped over me, I spread my knees and the lovely lady checked my stitch. It was pretty amazing how gentle she managed to be. The doctor who had done this at the last scan was rough and barely managed to find what she was looking for. This sonographer was gentle, precise and calming. Before long I'd seen the stitch, seen the channel that connects vagina to uterus and felt reassured.

I got dressed, gathered mum from the other side of the curtain, and we were escorted into the hallway to wait for the doctor. Before long I felt the ultrasound jelly leaking out of me. I grabbed a few tissues, faced the corner and shoved the tissues into my undies. Classy.

The doctor agreed that everything was fine, wrote me a script for more progesterone and sent us on our way. Back past reception, down the lift, past medical imaging and along to the pharmacy. Between mum and I we seem to know every damn department of this hospital. An hour later I returned to pick up my progesterone, ran up the stairs and met mum out the front of the main entrance where she sat with the car running. The same place a wardie had dropped me after one of my surgeries a couple of years back. Some things change. Others seem not to.