This week has been a week of scans.The letter that invites us to the routine 20 week anomaly scan is really quite a scary read. It lists a range of unpleasant things that could be missing or damaged with your baby, and the percentage chance of them being detected. (If they are present is what the letter doesn’t say). The wording is alarmingly ambiguous, making you wonder, on first reading, what the chances are that your baby might have all of the unfortunate conditions listed. An addition of the sentence ‘These conditions are rare, however, if present, these are the percentage chances of your sonographer being able to visually detect them’ would make it read slightly better.
My nerves for this scan had been building for some days, but the reassuring kicks helped me to think that things would probably be OK; nothing that wriggles about this much could be poorly. If this optimism sounds like the prelude to the revelation of some terribly sad news, don’t worry. It turns out there’s a little person in there, with two arms and two legs (with reassuringly average length thigh bones). Parts of the developing brain are picked out and measured; all present and correct, head looks normal, as does the face, and it all seems to be proportional, size wise. Abdomen, also fine, with stomach and bladder clearly visible. All four chambers of the heart are busily pumping away and eventually a good enough still image is taken for our records. But, for all it’s wiggling and kicking, this baby doesn’t want to turn around. I am sent to go for a wee in the hope that my moving will encourage baby to move, but it doesn’t. So, whilst we’ve seen the spine, the image wasn’t sufficiently clear to complete the scan report, and the kidneys also need a closer look, so we’re back in 2 weeks for another scan. The placenta also seems to be lying a little low, and although it will probably correct itself, we are also going to need to be re-scanned at 32 weeks just to make sure it’s moved. If it hasn’t we’ll be looking at a sun roof delivery. But that’s ages away.
The extra scan isn’t a problem; I’ll be on half term so no need to ask for more time off work (which isn’t a problem in itself; work are being great), and we were due back in to see the consultant on that day, anyway. The administrative dis-communication with appointments this week and last has been quite special. Last week I was offered an appointment at High Wycombe hospital to see the obstetrics consultant. This would have been the day before the scan, which was going to be at Stoke Mandeville. I was able to make the swap between hospitals to see a different obstetrics consultant, but for 2 weeks time, and now we have been able to organise the repeat scan for the same day as the consultant appointment, too, so it all seems to have worked out.
The other bit of me that’s needed to be scanned this week is my armpit. One of my boobs (which which are going for some sort of world record) has grown into my left armpit, and is a bit lumpy and sore. It’s been like it for years, but it’s got worse since I’ve been pregnant, so I’ve been sent along to the Wycombe breast clinic to get it checked out. The appointment I was allocated? Within 10 minutes of the scan appointment at Stoke Madeville on the same day. They were happy to change it, but I do think that some kind of patient records information system would have been useful here. The breast clinic is excellent, and I was scanned, seen and reassured in one afternoon. They were running late, and I was there for a few hours, but it was OK. Better that than some other kind of bad news.
So, happy mummy, happy (stubborn) baby. And we get two bonus sneak peeks. Meanwhile, I’m still getting kicked, and, since most of the kicks are on the left hand side, I’m guessing baby is still pretty comfortable where he or she is.