Scan by Scan: part 1

Funny how a few months, a few moments even, can change a life. I thought it might be interesting to look back at our scan history.

8-week scan
This was an unexpected event due to spotting. I couldn't be there and the first I heard about it was through a thoroughly well-crafted e-mail from W that allayed all fears, even if W was probably worrying herself silly. One very good result was that W got hear a heartbeat and we gained a picture of... a blob.

12-week scan
Bladder full, W is on the bed and the sonographer starts rubbing gel over W's tummy. I feel like a spare part.

Sonographer: (wielding the echo transducer - that's the wandy thingy that looks like an elongated roll-on deodorant) Let's see what we can see. Have you been to the toilet in the past hour?
W: No, I'm holding it in.
Sonographer: Lovely.

She pushes the skin, hardly even a bump, from side to side with the scan wand, all the time looking up and across at the monitor. I know that my own mouth is hanging open in wonder at the glimpses of first a clear spine - a distinct, curved white shaft that emerges from the darkness - then a hand, a foot, a head, a heart... 

Sonographer: A clear picture, you certainly have been holding it in.
W: (proudly) I like to do things correctly.
Sonographer: Best one we've had all day. Sometimes people can't do it and go to the loo before they get in here.
W: What's the point of that?
Sonographer: Exactly. I have to make them come back.
Me: Yay! We're the best! (to my credit, I do not go any further and say somehting like 'Three gold stars to us')

We spend more time looking at the foetus, from the side and also in cross sections through the body from head to toe (I didn't know they could do that). Side on, he/she/it is now less clear.

Sonographer: ...keeps turning away...
W: Recalcitrant little person...
Me: I guess he doesn't want to be seen.
W: He?

I wonder where this slip comes from. In my own mind, I believe it's going to be a girl but I still try to defend my statement.

Me: You know, he's (I do it again), well, er.... got a big head. I had a big head when I was born.
W: All babies look like they have a big head in proportion to their bodies. That doesn't mean anything.

The sonographer nods in agreement and smiles.

Me: Something just made me want to say 'he'...

We are mesmerised for a few more minutes as the sonographer does the nuchal fold test. It's hard to pin down the foetus, due to movement, but eventually the nurse gets the readings she needs. 

Sonographer: Thank you. You can go to the loo now.
W: Relief. (giving me a look) He?!


Afterwards, we decide that Blob should now be called Flaily, in honour of its performance today. Welcome Flaily.

Sick Bag

We're on a pleasant trip to a country house in Hampshire. When we get there, W is feeling ill. A combination of winding roads, a large breakfast and a residual morning sickness do not bode well. Mother-in-Law (MiL) has already gone ahead at this point.

Me: How are you doing?
W: Not good.

Pause

W: Have you got something I can use?
Me: Use? Oh, I see. (searching around, I find a M&S bag in my pocket).
W: Why've you got that?
Me: Shopping, I always carry one. They make you pay 5p for that.

A veritable torrent later and we discover the bag has a few holes.

W: Great! New jeans as well.
Me: Oh dear. It seems to have caught most of it.
W: Lucky you had it.
Me: This isn't just any bag, it's an M&S bag.

I spend the next few minutes wandering around a National Trust car park with a bag of sick. There is no bin. Fortunately, closer to the stately home visitor centre, I find a small receptacle. Lifting the bag is not easy and a small dribble runs down the side of the bin. At least no one has seen me. I'm pretty chuffed that I'm relatively unperturbed. I feel this is good preparation for the baby mess ahead.

Carrying Time

The Mother-in-Law (MiL) is on holiday with us and we've been having a few (nice) conversations about future responsibilities. For example, we were on a walk and W was getting very tired...

W: I'm carrying extra weight now. Phew.
Me: You OK?
W: Yeah, I'll be fine.

Pause, we stop walking.

W: Nine months I'll be carrying this around.
Me: I know. I'll do my bit. I'll do all the carrying when it's born.
MiL: Sounds good.
Me: I reckon til about 18 months should do it.
MiL: Yes, but you've got to remember that she's doing it continuously, day and night.
Me: Oh, alright then. About... 3 years?
W: Yeah but when you carry, you're probably not going to be doing it for more than an hour at a time.
MiL: If it's going to be even, then about 8 years total should do it.
Me: Crikey!
W: (smiles)
Me: I can see why you're tired.
W: I've racked up about 4 years so far
Me: Mind you, 4 years and it'll be walking....
W: There'll be plenty of other things for you to do...
Me: I'm sure.