
Now it’s starting to hit me. This is actually happening. While Lyndsey has been going through a boatload of changes and feeling every step of it, I have just been the awkward male cheerleader on the sidelines. I sleep OK, I can still eat, drink and otherwise consume almost anything I want. I like to blame my absent-mindedness and laziness on sympathy pains, but I think Lyndsey sees right through it...(shhhh - don't tell her) It was not until last week when I started to get a hint that something profound was happening.
It was suggested, nay strongly encouraged, that somewhere between weeks 12 and 16 we have an early risk assessment ultrasound and blood work-up done to determine any heightened risk factors for chromosomal abnormalities, such as Down Syndrome. Lyndsey and I, while having already debated the pros and cons of genetic screening in the past, opted to have the tests. We are nothing if not pragmatic, and for us it was worth the effort to learn as much as possible as soon as possible to help us prepare. With all the experience we have of birthing and raising children (read: zero) the more knowledge and time to prepare the better. It was at this appointment that the awkward male cheerleader finally got a sense of the enormity of it all.
My first hint was when we were meeting with the genetic counselor, whose role was to describe what the ultrasound and blood work are aimed at detecting, why it was important to know the risk factors, and what happens upon finding a higher-than-normal risk factor. As this was a genetic matter, there was nothing we could do to control what the test was about to look for. It was out of our hands. Some abnormalities could be dealt with and still lead to a long and enjoyable life for our child. Others, however, would lead to another very unfortunate and sad outcome. The counselor rattled off all of this information with the sensitivity of a drill sergeant asking for a few push-ups. I don't begrudge the counselor one bit for her tone. She gives this speech many times a day and probably has to be the bearer of bad news more than she would like. It was at this point, I realized we were not in the minor leagues anymore and it all became very, very real.
After shaking off the dooms-day feeling left by the counseling session, it was time to take a look at junior, or Ms. junior, or juniorette if you’re not into the whole brevity thing. We were told in the counseling session that there were certain areas the technician would be looking at determine the existence of a high risk factor. As the technician was furiously clicking, drawing lines and making measurements by scrolling her Centipede-type roller ball around the screen with the precision of someone who spent most of her formative years in an arcade, I found myself more occupied trying to figure out the measurements myself than actually looking at the whole picture. I was sure I would be able to determine the health of the baby by myself. Really, how hard could it be?? At one point Lyndsey asked if the baby was actually moving as much as she thought or whether that was just a visual effect of the ultrasound. The technician responded that the baby was moving as Lyndsey thought. This snapped me out of my state of algebraic focus and drew my attention to this formation on the screen apparently bouncing around like "Shout!" was playing over the uterine speaker system. That was, in fact, a baby and it was, in fact, moving about as if it had someplace really important to be. That was moment number two.
At that point I was able to enjoy the rest of the ultrasound and stare in disbelief at what I was seeing. It became very clear that our baby was going to be a nose-picker or a thumb-sucker – every time an arm came into view, it was heading straight for the nose or mouth. Unfortunately, ultrasound technology has not advanced far enough to see which one it was; nor did it allow us to remind the baby that it was on camera and people were watching and to stop embarrassing its parents.
Anyway, we've received good news from the genetic counselor that all tests came back normal and they did not detect any early risk factors. It appears the baby is healthy and normal - well except for the nose-picking and thumb sucking!
To my son:
ReplyDeleteI have always been so proud of you and the wonderful man you have become. Your beautifully written comments about your son or daughter certainly prove how right I am. You are going to be an amazing Dad, and it's going to be such a joy to watch and wait with you for my grandchild to join us.
Love,
Mom
Poignant and touching...especially the Big Lebowski reference. Nicely done!
ReplyDeleteMia