Genius Toiling in Obscurity

Heads Up, Everybody!

I saw my o.b. today for my 36 week checkup, though first I had to suffer through a non-stress test. For the uninitiated, a non-stress test involves being attached to a fetal monitor for twenty minutes or so and clicking a button every time one feels the baby move, to confirm that the baby is showing normal patterns of activity. I am going to be having one twice a week from now until the baby is born, because of my anticardiolipin antibody. If, at this late date, I start clotting my placenta and the baby's flow of goodies is cut off, he'd be better off outside than in, so we're keeping an eye on him.

He failed his first non-stress test spectacularly today, sleeping through the whole thing even after the nurse force-fed me juice to give him a blood sugar jolt. That meant we had to follow up the NST with an ultrasound, which showed that he is doing just fine. His heart is beating, he was moving around, and he's practicing breathing.

It made for a long visit to the doctor, especially since I hadn't known they were going to spring the NST on me and I had brought Eric. But I defy the mother of any two-year-old to produce a kid who could be so well-behaved and under control while his mother was strapped to various pieces of equipment for over an hour. He did everything I, the medical assistant, and the ultrasound technician asked him to do, and kept himself amused with the toys I had brought, supplemented by a blood pressure cuff and a stethoscope.

We were both a bit frazzled by the time we finally saw the doctor, but I doggedly made my way through my List of Stupid Questions. In my first pregnancy, I had a long List of Stupid Questions at every single appointment; this time, being more experienced, this is only the second time I've had a list at all, and it was pretty short. I figured I knew the answers to all my questions already, and I wasn't far wrong.

For instance, I told the doctor that I'd started retaining fluid in my ankles. "It's not uncomfortable," I said, "but I notice that I have sock marks when I get undressed at night." I figured she'd say, "Well, your blood pressure is fine, and your weight gain is fine, so it's nothing to worry about. Try to drink a lot of fluid, and lie down a little during the day if you can."

That's exactly what she said.

Then I told her that I had experienced a sudden burst of anxiety about Rh compatibility, becoming convinced that I was mistaken in thinking I was Rh positive and that we were courting trouble by not doing Rhogam shots. I figured she'd check my chart, confirm that I am, in fact, Rh positive, and reassure me that there is nothing to worry about.

That's exactly what happened.

I told her about my bulging cervix. "Is that normal?" I asked. I figured she'd say that it was a function of this being my second pregnancy and everything being a bit looser down there in consequence, and that I shouldn't worry.

Except that she gave the Medical Jargon version of that speech, that's exactly what she said.

I said, "Eric was born at 37 and a half weeks. Should we expect this baby to come early, too?" I figured she'd tell me that these things are unpredictable, that every pregnancy and every baby is different, and that, while every woman wants to know when the baby will come, there's nothing to do but wait and see.

She said, "Oh, absolutely. He might not come at 37 and a half weeks, but you won't go anywhere near your due date. You should prepare yourself."

Gulp.

Posted by Su Penn at March 16, 2004 03:41 PM | TrackBack