The Dreadful Amniocentesis Results
Eager to attain a restful nights of sleep and reduce the panic from within I got into bed early, as I knew I would be required to awake much earlier so to get to my appointment on time. The attempt, while in good faith, failed miserably. I lay on my pillow and sought comfort, nonetheless I found it quite arduous to pull the nightmarish horror stories of the procedure I was to have in mere hours from my mind — even then I knew I couldn’t disregard the risks. As each minute passed, much to my demise, I found myself treading deeper; drenched in fear of the possibilities, risks, concerns, and horrendous pessimistic ‘what-ifs’. Internally I knew that somehow I had to diffuse the dangerous deliberations so to salvage as much rest as I could before the sounding of the alarm clock. With each hour more solemn than the previous, I finally drifted to sleep sometime after midnight; despite getting into bed much before.
As I took the first step into my physicians office, my mind was a jumped ball of emotions; the pessimist from within was controlling, I knew at any time I could opt out of the test and cite the risk facts as justification. I was very scared, in fact I was unsure the proper decision for the life within my womb. As the only patient in the office, at an hour so early, the nurses recognized the fear my facial expressions conveyed; before the chance to have a seat I was called back, the nurse whispered “don’t be scared” as she took my hand. Inside the room I unloaded my mounting fears, tearfully, both hands on my growing bump feeling a very active bean. Typically, each morning my little acrobat does his warming up for the day ahead; the feelings of life moving within the womb I cannot begin to describe or for that matter get used to.
Much to my surprise the nurse’s compassionate tone begin to ease my mind and before I knew it my appointment was beginning without much more thought. Seemingly like clockwork at the time I would have been waking up; my little one started to wiggle, twinge, and kick softly. The nurse had spoken to me for nearly an hour as we waited the obstetrician’s arrival. It was at that moment my angel provided me with the reassurance I needed to discern the choice I was making was the best choice for the health of my bean. The health care providers took their place in my room after the initial requirements had been taken, I voiced several time to the physician that the baby was quite active. My doctor laughed with me about my little acrobat, before going over each detail of the amniocentesis ahead. I felt comfortable knowing that each second of the test would have the baby’s placement monitored by a device much like an ultrasound so the exact placement would be known.
Oddly, the test wasn’t nearly what I expected; in fact it wasn’t bad at all. My little one stopped moving putting my mind at more ease; I could view the baby on the monitor as well and clearly see the extraction of fluid – I’m the type that desires to watch every second. While it stung the test was over in less than a minute; I hardly felt anything and most importantly baby bean didn’t even know we were there. Once completed I was required to lay flat and wear a Doppler so the heart rate could be monitored, reminding me once again of the risks of the test. The doctor came in before I left to share results of lung maturity; other results would be back at my next appointment. It was no real shock to me at my gestational age to know that my baby’s lungs at this time are still underdeveloped, yet normal for gestation. The doctor thinks it is best to begin steroid injections while lung development is occurring at this peak of rapid development.
I’ll have six injections prior to 34-weeks; I believe four of one medication and two of another; both steroids. The first injection will be gave to me in a few days, giving me time to research; with my illness I am no stranger to steroids. The baby and I both are measuring about one-week ahead of the scale used in comparison to the due date of March 4, 2011, this doesn’t always mean I’m a week ahead of what they had first thought and probably doesn’t. Little bean weighs nearly four-pounds; my baby is almost at the same weight I was when I was born. Early induction, however, is still necessary in relation to other aspects where my chronic illness is plaguing my own health. However, I am determined to reach full gestation and go into labor naturally.