19 Weeks with Emelia: The Level II Ultrasound

*  Trigger warning: References to miscarriage and baby loss, but everything is all right with me *

It had to have been my 16-week visit with my doctor where we had this conversation while I was pregnant with Olivia. My next appointment was going to be around 20 weeks and that was when I’d have the anatomy scan. My OB with Olivia was awesome. He perpetually ran late because he spent time with his patients. He was amazing at calming my anxiety, showing me the research, and giving me a well-rounded picture of the risks and benefits of procedures. I’ve been searching my blog post archives and I can’t find where this conversation was, which is sort of weird, because I thought I would have talked about it on here, but here it is now.

I was having a lot of anxiety over my scan with Olivia. In the infertility and loss world, there were far too many people I knew personally who had either lost a baby around this time or went to their anatomy scan and had their world crash down around them. I was immersed in it. I was emotionally involved in it. I relayed all this to my doctor, sitting on the exam table as he finished his fetal heart tones check and he sat in his chair with me for the next ten minutes, listening to me talk about how terrified I was approaching my own anatomy scan. He told me yes, in his decades of being an obstetrician, there was a handful of pregnant moms who lost their babies sometime between 18 and 21 weeks.

“We don’t know why it is,” he said softly, leaning back in his chair, his arms above his head. But, he told me, it’s rare. It’s OK to be concerned, but it’s rare. Still, I didn’t breathe easier until we saw Olivia wriggling around on the ultrasound.

I was feeling Olivia pretty good by the time we had our scan, but I was scared for it. And everything, except a diagnosis of a marginal cord insertion, went just fine.

This time around, there was no fear. None. In fact, I woke up Monday, the day of our scan, thinking, I‘ve been chasing around Zany Psychopath and trying not to puke for weeks and I totally forgot to be freaked out for this ultrasound…

(I may or may not be trying not to puke right now while typing this.)

This time around, I was set up for a level II ultrasound at the perinatology clinic close to the hospital. At my 12 week visit, my new OB told me I’d be doing a level II because I did IVF. I thought it was weird, but didn’t think too much about it. There was plenty of other things going on at that visit that was overwhelming.

But honestly, I was sitting with Chris waiting to be called back that morning and I still really didn’t know why I was having one of these, especially since I wasn’t aware of others who did IVF having to have a Level II.

With Olivia, the anatomy scan took two hours since she wasn’t cooperating. This one was over in 45 minutes. The sonographer was really nice, but I grimaced through a lot of it because my abdomen and C-section incision site were really sore when she’d push on it. The quality I thought could have been a lot better considering they’re Maternal-Fetal Medicine and you’d think they’d have state-of-the-art ultrasound equipment. My pictures with Olivia were better than this and that was just at the OB clinic. But check these out:

 

 

 

She started out head down, then squirmed sideways, and then desperately tried to flip breech while the sonographer got her images. I was debating drinking some juice before we left for the scan to perk her up and I’m glad I’m didn’t. Homie did enough acrobatics by herself. At one point the sonographer caught Queso frantically bucking, trying to somersault again. She flung her legs around, she covered her face with her arms, she crossed her legs. She was everywhere, but I guess that’s what happens when you do the scan at 19 weeks versus 21.

Here’s the only profile shot I got (in the sonographer’s defense, it was really hard getting a decent profile with all this enthusiastic flipping around) but she’s practically curled in a ball with her knees up by her face.

Queso is apparently weighing in at 11 oz and is in the 65 percentile. She has a big head like her sister before her, and her heart rate was 152. She has NO issues that the sonographer could visualize on US, so that’s fantastic news. Also, the SCH is gone! I haven’t had bleeding in… a month? So the hematoma is gone and that’s also fantastic news.

The perinatologist came in afterward because there were a few things related to Queso’s heart the sonographer couldn’t get due to squirming issues. I asked her what my reasons were for needing a Level II US and she said it’s because I did IVF. Apparently, there’s a higher risk of birth defects, particularly cardiac-related, in babies who are conceived via IVF. Which one, is weird because I didn’t do this with Olivia and hello! IVF baby. And two, I hadn’t heard this being routine with my friends who did IVF. In fact, I was talking to a friend about this earlier this week and she said she never had one.

OK, I looked around the interwebs, and there are some articles stating this. Still, I can’t help but feel… discriminated against? Maybe that’s harsh. I’m glad everything looks good with Queso’s heart, but way to beat me down again for needed medical intervention to have a baby, geez.

Anyway, I’m still barfy, gaggy, bitchy, the works. I’m now 19.5 weeks and I can’t believe how fast it’s going. Besides the baby kicks, pregnancy orgasms, and the ability to eat my body weight in chips and dip and no one bats an eye, I feel like I really haven’t been enjoying this pregnancy, relishing it, cherishing it as the last pregnancy I’ll have. Sometimes I wish time would slow down more, so I can enjoy the time I have left with it just being Olivia, and the fact that I’m pregnant again, but then the nausea hits me like a freight train and I’m all FUUUUUCK let’s be done with this, mmkay?

I’ve been feeling her more this past week, as her kicks are getting stronger. It’s still nothing like it was with Olivia, with this anterior placenta. I’m hoping in another six weeks or so, I’ll be feeling a lot more as my placenta moves.