In two weeks, we have the ultrasound to find out if this baby is a boy or a girl. Well, as I had to explain to the 9yo [who, to her credit, didn't understand why you would go to so much trouble to find out the sex], the test is actually to make sure the baby looks OK — no gross abnormalities. All arms, legs, etc., just one head, blah blah blah. But while you’re poking around, you can find out the baby’s sex.
I know that there are at least two schools of thought on finding out the sex in advance. I am firmly, 100% in the no-surprises camp. You may find this strange when I also tell you I’ve turned down all of the tests they offer those of us who are “AMA” — advanced maternal age. No nuchal screen. No CVS. No amnio. No quad screen. No nothin’. At first, I was contemplating the nuchal screen. [Let Blonde Mom explain the nuchal screen to you. Excellent info.] My doctor asked me, Well, what do you plan to do with the information?
Hmm. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Even if the baby were more likely to have Down Syndrome, I knew I wouldn’t be having CVS or an amnio, both invasive tests that carry a slight risk of miscarriage. I would just know that there’s a slightly greater than normal chance the baby had Down Syndrome. And my doctor pointed out, she’s seen lots of parents spend the next several months worrying, to no real effect. Either the baby has Down’s or it doesn’t. You already know that.
When I was pregnant with the 9yo, my situation was a lot different. I had developed epilepsy at 25 or so. By the time I got pregnant several years later, my seizures were completely controlled with medication. But my neurologist and my ob/gyn were both reluctant to take me off medicine, since, as they wisely pointed out, my having a seizure was much more dangerous to the baby than my taking medicine. But I had had the misfortune to run into a nurse practitioner just before I became pregnant — who, upon learning of our plans to conceive in a routine background questionnaire, proceeded to lecture me on “how bad Tegretol is for babies.” Well, no shit, lady. I knew that. I also knew the slightly increased chance of birth defects with Tegretol [basically, during that pregnancy, I had the birth defect risk of a woman maybe 10 years older than I was] was negligible compared to the risks of having a seizure while pregnant. And that both my neurologist and my ob/gyn were thrilled and supportive of my decision to get pregnant.
Nonetheless, the nurse’s judgmental words and attitude stuck with me. And I worried myself half to death. The ex and I had not been planning to find out the baby’s sex — most of our friends had not, and it was a fun surprise at birth. But the day of the ultrasound, I remember very clearly saying to him: “I need some happy news. The sex is fine either way, but I need something tangible to know about this baby.” So we found out. And indeed, it was a very happy, certain thing to cling to the next few months.
From the time I got pregnant with the 9yo, I have never had another seizure. I continued to take medicine for several more years, but in the last couple of years, I convinced my neurologist that I didn’t need the meds anymore. Actually, I think what I convinced him of was that I wouldn’t be taking the meds anymore. I’m sure he and his attorney still think I need them. :)
In the intervening years, I also developed rheumatoid arthritis — kind of a 30th-birthday-present-from-hell is how I’ve come to regard it. [I'm a regular laugh riot today, I know.] I have been extraordinarily lucky with that disease as well. I took medicine for 5 or 6 years, and after a while, the disease was clearly in remission. In this case, my doctor convinced me to go off the meds, assuring me I could start up again with no ill effects if symptoms returned. Except for having the knees of a 50- or 60-year-old — residual damage from the first months after diagnosis when we had trouble getting the disease under control — I appear to be completely in remission. So, no harmful meds there, either.
All that to say — I no longer have the medical reason I wanted happy news the first time around. But I’m still thrilled to find out what the baby is. Because it’s just fun to know. That’s it.
All along, I have been convinced this baby is a girl. I realized about a month ago that I had begun thinking of it as a girl. I figured this is a really, really stupid thing to do, since it could just as easily be a boy. Nonetheless, my thoughts persist in that direction.
But two nights ago, I dreamed that we were at the ultrasound. And it wasn’t just a regular ultrasound. It was a high-tech, CNN-hologram, Star-Wars inspired ultrasound, where the image of the baby displayed not on a computer screen, but in a hologram suspended above my abdomen. And the baby was clearly a boy. Except right at the end, his face [previously black and white, like an ultrasound] was splashed with pink — like, Pepto Bismol paint.
What does THAT mean? I guess we’ll find out in two weeks!
