I got a call on my cell phone at work from a number I didn't recognize. It was the genetic counselor with the results from my blood work. "Everything looks good" was all I really caught. Oh, thank God. The actual risk factors were:
- Down's Syndrome 1 in 10,000
- Trisomy 18: 1 in 9,900
- Spina Bifida: 1 in 5,100
While nothing is 100% guaranteed, we took those numbers to mean we can officially stop worrying. The genetic counselor asked if I was interested in any of the other testing options and I didn't even let her finish listing off the tests before I said no thank you and hung up the phone. There is no reason to worry about additional testing, especially since we have no family history of genetic issues. I did not want to repeat any of this.
6 weeks after my first appointment, we can finally put all of this behind us. I called Mom and Dad to tell them the good news. Hopefully, the rest of my pregnancy will be normal and boring. Normal is good. Boring is good. The only thing that remains is the bill. Two ultrasounds, genetic counselor, specialist, and blood work. Yikes.
I was back into my OB for my monthly appointment and learned the monotony of the monthly appointment - pee in a cup, stand on the scale, find the Peanut's heartbeat, make next appointment. At least the waiting room always provides entertainment. This week, it was two teenagers very worried about whether or not they needed their parents' permission to be there. Ah, youth.
I made my appointment for my 20 week ultrasound and my next routine appt. 20 week ultrasound means we get to find out if the Peanut is a boy or girl. And it also means we're halfway! We started throwing around names and picked names we "liked." If it's a girl, Petunia Rose and if it's a boy, Optimus Prime (OP for short). The Peanut needs a better name than the Peanut.
So far I had not bought any maternity clothes and I was still wearing my own blue jeans. Then week 19 rolls around and I realized sitting in my desk at work that my days of wearing non-maternity jeans was over. I worked at my desk with my pants unbuttoned and a rubber band looped around the button so my fly wouldn't unzip. Yeah, I'm classy. Oh well, it was a good run.