15w2d: Change is Good, Right?

We finally got the Materni21 results back and they were negative. I wasn’t actually that concerned about them or even preoccupied waiting for them because at the same time, we were looking for a new house in another state. That’s right, it’s not enough that we’re having another child this year, we’ve also decided to move back to Louisiana.

We’ve always known that we would be moved and were essentially living on borrowed time. We also knew that the best position that we could secure for both of us – besides where we are now – is moving back to New Orleans. And that is just what we’re doing. Mr. X has gotten a job with a new facility that his company has purchased and of course, we are going with him. I will also be able to get back into my office which I haven’t been able to do in the last 6 1/2 years.

I was initially really excited about the move but our trip back to find a house was a real eye opener. Despite Hurricane Katrina, the housing market is strong, almost overpriced. We have more money this time around to buy but we also have more criteria (and people). Given that we have an almost school age child, school districts were of great concern and unfortunately, New Orleans is still a place with exceptionally poor public schools and exceptionally expensive private schools. So, we found a house in a different community that has good public schools, but is short on other amenities…. like quality day care.

Rex is currently in the center that is associated with Mr. X’s company. We consider it the Rolls Royce of daycare and we knew going in that it would be hard to duplicate. What I didn’t anticipate was that there doesn’t appear to even be something close to the lowest denominator of what we have now. I went from being mostly excited about our move to crying in the middle of a potential daycare. I could blame the hormones, but mostly it was realizing that we were so incredibly fortunate and it will be really hard to get that lucky again.

Most of my sadness was also because I got very attached to the center where he’s at. I’ve never had to worry about him (except for the unfortunate biting incidents) or what he was learning. In fact, they taught me so much about raising a child that it’s like they raised me too. I’m really going to miss that.

But, change is good. For all of us.

13w: Scanning & Scurrying

The NT scan we had with Rex featured the word “surreal” many times. Surprisingly, it was no different this time around.  It never ceases to amaze me how the tadpole blob of 6 weeks transforms into something closely resembling a baby as early as 12w4d.  We saw the profile, including the distinctive X family chin, the beginning of the nose, legs, arms, hands and little fingers.  It was too early to tell gender.

Unlike the MFM we saw with Rex, we were given genetic counseling about the most common chromosomal abnormalities and the various tests now available.  We told our sordid conception history, including the parts involving the man down the hall, aka Dr. Uterus.  We told of the conception success we had up the street with his rival.  And, we all marveled that this time we ended up where we were all by ourselves.

The NT measurement varied between 1.8 and 2.4, which we both found alarming but didn’t seem to phase the tech or the doctor.  Baby was measuring ahead at 13w3d.  She said that everything looked “great” and was unconcerned with the measurements.

As for the blood test, we opted for the Materni21 blood test.  It finds and isolates free floating DNA from the baby and evaluates it for Trisomy 13, 18, and 21.  The results come back as a “yes” or “no” rather than odds. It’s being billed as the no risk amnio. I prefer to think of it as the yes/no test.  We get the results in about 10 days.

As surreal as the scan was, being back in the waiting room at Dr. Uterus’s office was downright bizarre.   The staff remembered me and seemed glad to see me as a patient of the MFM rather than Dr. Uterus.  I couldn’t identify any fertility patients waiting, but I could definitely pick them out from the departing patients.  The lack of a big belly was a clue, but the dead giveaway was the consistent half-run they all made to get the hell out of that waiting room.  They all looked straight ahead while making a beeline for the door.  I was so sad for them because I knew so well what they were going through. I wanted to give them a hug and a referral card to the far more compassionate Dr. Salsa who doesn’t make them run the gauntlet of bellies.  I also wanted to punch Dr. Uterus for still making his patients put up with a waiting room of disgruntled, pee-prone pregnant ladies.  He obviously has learned nothing.

So, all in all, a positive experience.