I should start this by saying I’m a big a fan of my doctor. I met him on November 20th. He was a referral from a friend who’d had two babies with his practice.
We met with him today to review the results of our nuchal and panorama.
“So the results of your tests are good. So it’s really up to you if you decide to get an amnio or not. I’ll give you all the paperwork and when you go in for your 16 week ultrasound, you can talk to the genetic counselor there.”
“What’s the benefit to getting an amnio at this point?”
“It checks for chromosomal abnormalities that the other tests do not. Admittedly, these are more rare but there’s a lot of shit out there. I delivered a baby last week and she has a heart issue. I don’t think the baby’s going to make it. Their first baby was fine.”
“Would the amnio have picked up on that?”
My husband jumped in.
“I have a question. When do you stop worrying? Or don’t you?”
“I don’t know that you ever stop. My kids are in their twenties now. One of them is in New Hampshire working on Hilary’s campaign. He’s a driver. He grew up in Manhattan. What the fuck does he know about driving? The other one, she’s in college. She got a job in Africa. We had to convince her not to go. We’d pay more money to hire a guard for her than we did for her tuition.”
We sat there, thinking. He continued.
“Look, at the end of the day, it’s what makes you feel more comfortable. If you’re worried throughout a pregnancy, a pregnancy becomes very long.”
“What would you do?”
“I don’t know. I’m a fatalist. I think you get like that as you get older. You accept that certain things aren’t within your control.”
So … what the fuck do we do now? To amnio or not to amnio. That is the question.