After what seems like the longest time of our lives the waiting is finally over. The past few weeks have dragged and we subconciously seemed to put things regarding the pregnancy on hold. It was as if making plans would tempt fate and make it harder to cope in the event of bad news, so we didn’t make them. We barely spoke about the pregnancy at all. Even the blanket I’d been knitting was continued at a slow pace, but without the excitement of new baby expectations knitted into each stitch.
Of course, every day life still goes on and we also had to contend with a couple of weeks sickness during these last few weeks as well as embarking on our homeschooling journey. We’ve been so busy but still taking things a day at a time and I really felt ok up until the few days before the scan, where the worry and panic set back in resulting in a few sleepless nights.
Finally, we had our scan last week. We weren’t sure whether our test results would be back or not yet. Part of me felt happier with the ignorance of not knowing anything. Another part wanted desperately to know and hopefully be reassured.
The oldest two children were at school and so the five youngest came along with us. Thankfully Mike had managed to book the day off which was a huge help and comfort to me. We sat in the waiting room, taking up a row of seats ourselves. The children all immediately settled with some books we had taken along and, despite us waiting for almost an hour from when we first arrived, were quiet and perfectly well behaved the whole time. I was so proud of them all, especially given how young the smaller ones are.
We were finally called in by the sonographer and he immediately began scanning. There were three people in the room, the sonographer, a lady who was entering the measurements onto the computer and a third lady who left to find out if the test results were back.
It wasn’t a “normal” scan where the sonographer points out different parts and talks you through, not that we expected it to be. The sonographer would relay the measurements to his colleague and they would whisper between themselves. I would pick up bits and pieces of conversation, straining to hear better, constantly moving my head to see if I could understand anything on the screen.
After what seemed like an eternity but was in truth only about 10-15 minutes the third member of staff returned with our results. She immediately went over to the lady entering the details on the computer and they began to whisper. I then heard two words… “Cystic Fibrosis” and the whispering continued. My throat tightened and felt like it was being squeezed even though there was nothing physically around it. I turned to look at Michael to see if he’d heard what I had just heard but I couldn’t see his face as whichever child was on his lap at the time (I really didn’t notice) was in the way. I felt the bile rising in my throat and I swallowed and felt my heart racing.
Then the lady who had gone for the results said my name and walked around to where I was lying, still being scanned.
“Tania,” she said, “the tests are all negative.”
I think she may have gone on to say more – something about no genetic or chromosomal problems but I can’t remember her words. I remember feeling so relieved, and thanking God over and over. And feeling the weight of the previous five or six weeks lifting off me. And trying not to cry.
The sonographer then said that the scan was over. He and the lady at the computer said that the results, along with the information they’d got from the scan indicates no serious problems at all. The hyperechogenic bowel is still present, but the absence of something else which I can’t remember the term for indicates that it isn’t a blockage which would need operating on either. I have to continue to return for four weekly scans in order to keep an eye on the hyperechogenic bowel and the growth of the baby, as there is still the possibility it could be an indicator of placental failure, but the chance of this is tiny, given that the baby’s growth hasn’t been affected so far and the blood flow is of no concern at all.
Yesterday I had an appointment with my consultant who gave me the final reassurance I needed to hear. Everything looks to be wonderful. The baby appears to be completely healthy and although they do want to keep a closer eye than they normally would, it is purely precautionary.
Many, many people all over the world have been praying for us during the last few weeks – most of them people we’ve never met and are highly unlikely to get to meet. Thank you all so much for your thoughts, prayers, support and messages. You have no idea how much they have meant.
This post has also been posted at Lots of Kids and Pregnant Again.