Amid the fear, the terror, the all day sickness, the scary ultrasounds, the good ultrasounds and the how likely is it that your kid is messed up statistics (not likely, thank you internets), we have apparently entered the 2nd trimester. S and I are turning around, looking behind us at the invisible other couple who must be 12 weeks pregnant, not us. Then we are looking at each other like whatha? Who? Us?
The second freaking trimester?
It does not feel like it went by quickly. Fucking first trimester of horror. No. It feels like we clawed our way here through the fear of what happened to us last time and what has happened to our friends. The worst one, honestly was WTF. After she lost her baby at 21 weeks, we were convinced, all of us, despite our fear, that certainly her next pregnancy just had to go well. It just had to. It was unimaginable that something bad would happen again.
But it did.
She had a late miscarriage. At freaking 11 1/2 weeks. Crumpled dead baby ultrasound. I drove my ass down there again, AGAIN, to cry with her. My experience with WTF was one of those where you really know that the universe has no mercy. Bad shit happens when you expect it, and when you don’t. Bad shit happens to good people and sometimes it happens over and over.
How does this relate to us exiting the 1st trimester? Honestly, I’m simply shocked that we have made it this far. I want to weep with relief. Miraculously, today I am feeling hopeful about the pregnancy. Not because I forced myself (hah! if only I could) but because I just am.
We are going to wait for the results of the 3rd part of the quadruple screen, which is a blood test in four weeks. The results of that test will combine with the nuchal ultrasound and 9 week blood test either make the odds go up or down. If they improve significantly we won’t get an amnio, and if they get crappier, we will. I am wanting the amnio regardless (because I’m afraid I’ll worry the whole fucking time), but S doesn’t and I don’t feel like I can insist upon one if the results of the next blood test give us a 94% detection rate (so 94% of downs cases will be detected by the 3rd blood test – is that right?). I also did some research and it looks like S’s age is not what made our statistic so crappy, it was her free hcg level. My researchy understanding is that the nuchal measurements are more important than the blood result. Whatever.
We’ll see how I feel as the weeks progress. I know my faith is inconsistent and I have accepted my role with S as the medical intervention pusher.
For now? Our baby is alive and there is 99.7% chance that all is well in the retardation department. It is enough to pull me through for a bit. It is enough to let in some excitement. We are in the second.fucking.trimester.
Today S and I did our our “Wonder Twin powers activate!” routine where we touch our matching wrist tattoos and say:
Yes we really do that.
Speakingofwhich, the Wonder Twins had a pet…yes they did. A pet Space Monkey.
Introducing (properly this time, with growing excitment):
our Space Monkey