This will be brief out of necessity but I wanted to update because I know some of you are likely worrying as I have been.
I was finally able to obtain a copy of last week Thursday’s follow-up anatomy scan to assess, in part, the risk of Azulito/a having an open neural tube defect (or anencephaly) due to my positive screen for elevated alpha-fetoprotein last month. It does not say much except “normal” for both the brain and spinal cord components.
Incidentally, the report also mentions that my currently low-lying placenta is “posterior” but appear to be entirely cover the internal cervical os, meaning we have a placenta previa diagnosis right now (as in the previous week’s ultrasound) but that could change in the coming weeks. In the context of everything else that we are facing and have been facing, I am not losing any sleep over this right now. So I may need a c-section. Or I may not. That would have been very upsetting to me 5 years ago. Now it’s no big deal. Truthfully, it is barely even on my radar. Funny how context can change perspectives.
Because my family doctor likes to kick me when I’m down, apparently, I should mention that she had her nurse tell me I was required to drive to the clinic (in lousy road conditions and during rush hour, I might add – there have been a large number of motor vehicle accidents in our city over the past 24 hours) to pay $10 before they would release my report to me. Really? It is not the ten bucks. It is that demanding I pay that first meant I could not get my result faxed to me and had to waste an hour of my day travelling there and back, paying the lousy $10 and proving I’d paid to get the copy. They could simply have told me the results over the phone – would that have been so difficult? Suffice to say I will be looking for a new doctor for me and the Miracle Toddler at some point in the foreseeable future.
In other news: another recent medical appointment and two upcoming ones.
1. Yesterday I saw the Immunologist to whom my family doctor had referred me. I liked her a fair bit. She read through the reports from Dr. Braverman and was very impressed at the scope and nature of testing and the care I’m receiving. She commented on not wanting to imagine how much that has cost me but noted that she felt I was getting very good care and was wise to continue to have my immune system function monitored given how things have unfolded. We had a good discussion about how she wishes to help me after this pregnancy is over, some helpful suggestions for allergy testing on the Miracle Toddler and managing his one known (suspected until proven through testing) allergy for now and she prescribed me a nasal steroid to help with the blocked nose that’s contributing to my lousy sleep experiences lately.
2. Tomorrow is our Level II Ultrasound at the hospital and meeting with the Perinatologist. I am still worried because I know that things can be missed on routine ultrasounds performed by technicians and not reviewed by perinatologists (maternal-fetal medicine specialists). But I am relieved to be heading into tomorrow’s appointment with less sheer terror and anxiety than the condition in which I’ve spent the past week and particularly the past 4 days since last Thursday’s ultrasound.
3. Next Tuesday I see my ObGyn for the first time since I was pregnant with the Miracle Toddler. I am both hopeful and deeply anxious. He is the head of high risk obstetrics at our chosen hospital and in the past I really liked him both as an expert in the field and a treating doctor. My family doctor’s constant second-guessing the legitimacy of my immunological issues and Dr. Braverman’s recommendations has tested my confidence in whether my ObGyn will take a similar approach. I really do not want to go shopping for a new Ob, though if that’s necessary I will do so. What choice would I have? The LP plans to come at my request. I need him there to keep my poop together should the doctor say anything particularly foolish or dismissive. At this point, my patience has worn gossamer-thin.
On that ambivalent note, I bid thee farewell until next update. Thank you – each and every one of you – for reading, hoping, praying, thinking of us and generally adding your pleas for positive outcomes to our own. I am so grateful, more than you may ever know.