Well, on Thursday my partner and I went in for the 8 week scan. I think they call it a viability scan. To see if the little blob inside you is alive! I hadn't realised how anxious I was about it until I was in the waiting room feeling every now and then like I could burst into tears. Wasn't upset. Just a kind of anticipatory build up. And in fact I was really enjoying being in the Mothers Hospital for a change, with the 'normal' mothers and the organised, smart and friendly staff. But I guess I'd heard stories of people turning up for this scan only to hear, "well I can see a baby, but there is no heartbeat. I'm afraid your baby is dead." :-(
So it was wonderful to be in the scan room with the ultrasound machine on, having such a fantastic, gentle and smart woman doing the scan, asking me questions and making favourable comments. Such as 'you look well-controlled' :-) Wow. Suddenly I was getting all these positive strokes for my diabetes after 23 years of being told I was 'non-compliant' and just 'one of those difficult patients'. Quite surreal actually.
The scan was amazing. Could see the uterus, like this fantastic orangey-shaped pod. Then every now and then when she would press harder on my abdomen, it was as if curtains in the pod would open, or the pod would part and inside was my baby or 'little blob' as she called it, almost seeming like he was beaming out at me, saying "hello, it's me! Yep I'm here and doing well. Hello mum! Hello dad. Away I go. Aha here I am again". It was fantastic. And so nice to have my husband there beside me. I could see his face and he was just beaming. Later he would say it was the first time it felt real for him. I'd been carrying this little one inside me for so long already, and now my husband had a chance to really experience the life.
In that one instant, I thought, Ah this is what's important. That's it. It's all that's important.
Quite a lovely experience indeed. We even had this romantic kiss on the steps of the Mothers Hospital afterwards. And when my partner came home that night after work, he gave me this loving hug. You could see the whole experience had transformed us.
That afternoon however I heard that a friend had had her miscarriage at 12-13 weeks. And I was reminded that this is early days. Very early days. I checked my calendar and resolved not to tell people until mid-April. 14 weeks.Posted by patton at March 02, 2003 06:50 AM