Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Another Ultrasound

We slowly drive up through the familiar narrow tunnels, being careful not to run into the pillars flanking our sides. I scour left and right, looking for an empty spot. Nothing on floor 3. Nothing on floor 4. Nothing on floor 5. Nothing on floor 6. We finally find ourselves on the top floor, with not one empty space in sight. As as we are about to voice our irritation, I notice a woman sitting behind the steering wheel of a Mazda. I hop out and approach, signaling with my hands and mouthing in exaggerated fashion, "Are you leaving?" She smiles and nods yes. We pull into the last empty space in the entire garage and make our way down the stairs.

We step out onto the sidewalk briefly before walking into the familiar building.

"We're here so often," I say to Jeff.

I can't believe we are back so soon -- just four months after my last miscarriage, with me already two months into my pregnancy. My third pregnancy in one year.

We ride up the elevator and into the reception area where we greet the receptionist by name. She smiles at us, and I remember the last visit when I sat on the same couch and cried silently with my head down in my chest as two obviously pregnant ladies chattered about their due dates and nursery room decorations.

We are soon in the examination room. Our doctor bounces in, and we no longer notice the lap top she always carries in the crook of her arm.

"How are you feeling?" she asks.

"I'm nauseous and exhausted ALL THE TIME. All I want to do is sleep."

"All right!" she cheers.

She props me up and prepares for the ultrasound. As she moves the wand, my eyes are fixed on the little screen. It is probably no more than a few seconds, but they seem to stretch into infinity. I stare and keep staring at the screen. All I see is a dark hole. Yes, there is the uterus, but... I'm afraid to ask. I just look at the screen, afraid to see the doctor's reaction, Jeff's.

I don't want to think of the last ultrasound when we stared so expectantly. While we obliviously chatted with the nurse about the state of the art ultrasound that could accurately measure the translucent space in the tissue at the back of the baby's neck, she kept rubbing the pad over my belly, pressing down more and more urgently. Abruptly, she removed the pad said, "Oh, I'm so sorry. I don't see a heartbeat." And we sat there, stunned, not knowing what to say.

This time, I am ready, for whatever the news may be. As I decide it would be ok, no matter what, a faint image appears. A little blob on the empty space.

"There's the heartbeat," the doctor says. She points to a speck less than half the size of the space in the letter "o" on this page. It blinks, and I remind myself that we saw them the last two times. But despite myself, relief sets in.


  1. That's wonderful! I'm hoping for the best for you. Thanks for sharing your news.

  2. I follow your blog and I am so happy for you! I can't wait to follow along throughout the entire pregnancy!

  3. THIS IS A FANTASTIC DAY! Congratulations, and may each step of this pregnancy bring you renewed hope and joy.

    I can relate to you both career-wise and in terms of pregnancy.

    I have had two miscarriages this year. And now, I am pregnant, just three weeks behind you! I want to be happy, but I am so guarded this time, as I have travelled this road before.

    With the last pregnancies that ended so sadly, I had all the "good" outward signs - nausea, tiredness, etc. And yet, the outcome was not good.

    This time around, I have some nausea, but it is not as strong. I am tired, but not always. So I keep wondering whether I can trust these outwards signs of a "good pregnancy" - is it bad that I don't have strong nause? Should I worry that my tummy seems bigger one day, or smaller the next. I just don't know what to think, or what to trust. It is an agonizing wait.

  4. I am continuing to pray for your pregnancy everytime I remember!

  5. Some drs really should catch a clue in learning how to speak with patients. She isn't working at the library and mumbling out loud about a misfiled card, she needs to work on her inner monologue.
    My heart dropped when I read that line too and am so happy to hear baby and heartbeat are strong!

  6. Congratulations!!!
    Keeping my fingers and toes crossed for you and wishing you all the best!!! :)

  7. Good luck to you with the pregnancy...I have been in your shoes (only 6 miscarriages, but two healthy young men, 17 and 19 years later) and work wise (my work was stellar for 22 years, but this year, they elected to terminate me for performance reasons). I will keep my fingers crossed for your healthy baby in 7 months! Seeing the heartbeat raises your spirits!

  8. What great news! I'll keep checking in to see how your pregnancy develops.

    Warm regards,


  9. Geez! My heart skipped a beat. I actually felt it skip.

    Many hugs!