I finally figured out how to use the wireless option on the Giant Gentile's camera. I needed a photo for my column to send to my designer. Of course, I got a bit carried away taking self-portraits (what else is n
ew?). Usually, I take pictures of myself, so I look super skinny, my eyes
look super big…you get the picture. In those shots, my belly simply doesn't look that big. See, little belly…hot girl. Very exciting.
But today, I piled a bunch of books on top of my banister and put on the camera's timer. Holy Good G-d is right:
Normally, I don't even allow such pictures to be shown in public (my face looks wide; I have 78 chins…), but where did that belly come from? No wonder I'm freaking all the doctors out…
Oh yes, the doctors simply do not know what to do with me. "Why?" you ask. Well, let's start out with doctor freak out number one…
SPAZZY DOCTOR NUMBER 1:
At 18 weeks, I went for my level-two ultrasound. I brought my favorite partner-in-crime for moral support. I intended to bring my six-year-old, but decided against it. One never knows. The ultrasound was long, but everything seemed to be going well. Until, the Maternal-Fetal Medicine doctor came rushing in.
" It says here that you refused genetic testing!!!"
Maybe it was my pregnancy brain, but he actually looked a little crazed. "Yes," I answered. "I do not want genetic testing."
"Well, you need it! You have to at least see the genetic counselor."
Blach, I'd seen the genetic counselor with baby number one; I didn't see the need to see her again. The baby-daddy has not changed. I opted out of genetic testing from the beginning for a reason: I simply was never going to have THAT conversation. If something was wrong, it wasn't going to change how I preceded with my pregnancy, so I saw no reason to ruin things. Now, I was born with a congenital heart defect, so they watch the baby's heart closely. That's fine. That's fixable. If they saw spina bifida, I'd have it fixed. I can't do anything about Down's Syndrome or other genetic disorders, and I'm not getting rid of my baby. It's not negotionable. However, Dr. Spazzy, didn't see it that way. Apparently he had seen (and this is the first time since then that I'm looking this up online):
"The Choroid Plexus and Choroid Plexus Cysts "The choroid plexus is an area of the brain that makes cerebrospinal fluid. Cerebrospinal fluid is the substance that surrounds the brain and spinal cord. The choroid plexus is not an area of the brain involved in thinking. Choroid plexus cysts are fluid-filled spaces in the choroid plexus kind of like blisters or bubbles. Choroid plexus cysts are not tumors or cancer, and they will disappear on their own usually between 24 to 26 weeks of pregnancy. Choroid plexus cysts, in and of themselves, are NOT a problem and do not interfere with brain function."
The baby had small cysts in her brain. However,
"Regardless of their number, shape or size, choroid plexus cysts are not harmful to the baby. "I am not aware of a single instance where a CPC caused damage to a fetus," …"If CPCs are found during an ultrasound, the radiologist will scrutinize every organ and body part to look for other abnormalities, such as a malformed heart, head, hands or feet, and stunted growth of the baby. When no other abnormalities are found, the diagnosis is called an "isolated CPC."
"If CPCs do not cause any damage, why does anyone worry about them? The problem is really one of association—being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Wrong or right, CPCs have become associated with a severe genetic disease called Trisomy 18. It is well documented that about half of babies with Trisomy 18 show a CPC on ultrasound. But Dr. Bronsteen from the Division of Fetal Imaging at William Beaumont Hospital in Royal Oak, Michigan points out, "Nearly all babies with Trisomy 18 who have a CPC have other abnormalities on the ultrasound, especially in the heart, hand, and foot." The real question arises when a baby has a CPC with nothing else wrong: the "isolated CPC."
2) I don't really think it's that great to lose weight while pregnant.
"Well, when I had you take one at 12 weeks, you failed the hour glucose test."
"But I passed the three hour…"
"Doesn't matter. Remember, you're starting off with a bit extra on you."
"Well," She looks at me pointedly, "You're not…Remember, you're"
"already big to begin with.." I interrupt. I get it.
"Three, including this one," I answer.
"So, they'd be what? Almost seven years apart?
Then, he walks out of the room.
When will these doctors calm down? I can't wait until I have to start fighting for my VBAC…
The docs sure are jittery these days, aren't they? I am glad you know how to handle them. Regarding size, maybe you're just carrying a bit extra amniotic fluid ... or maybe ... just maybe ... you are perfectly normal. Keep writing! Let me know if you want a partner in crime with the VBAC fight.
ReplyDeleteI am horrified that a doctor would say "Well I hope you didn't spend a lot conceiving this one." to you... That is so rude! And terrifying. And I would complain to someone about it. It's like he's insinuating that you'll lose the baby!! At least that's how I took it. Ugh. No wonder he's stuck in urgent care instead of in a real practice where patients only come back if they like the doc.
ReplyDeletei'm appalled that he said that---asshat. omg. off to read more. sheesh!
ReplyDelete