So, I went in for my NT scan yesterday. I expected it to take maybe an hour, but it turned out to be more like three hours, two of which were spent in waiting rooms. This resulted in my tragically missing my first class. Other than that, though, it all seemed to go well.
I first had to go back with the genetics counselor to give a family history and hear exactly what they were planning on doing to me. She was very nice, but one of those people that give constant eye contact, like you're in some kind of staring contest, so it was slightly weird. It was a bit troublesome having to attempt to give a complete health history of every person in both my and Noah's extended families, which was, of course, completely impossible. I tried, though, and at the end we had an extremely attractive family chart and a prognosis of probably healthy. She also promised that the required blood test would just be a finger-stick, which was delightful news. Despite my previous blood-drawing triumph, I am still a complete baby about it.
Somehow I am not shocked that my spawn appears to be all brains and mandibles.
At the end of this visit, I was somewhat dismayed to learn that I would need a full bladder for this ultrasound, since I had specifically asked the receptionist when I came in and she instructed me to go pee and not drink anything. So I wound up guzzling water for the next half hour until the nurse came to take me back for the ultrasound. I'm pleased to report that I've graduated from the dildo-cam and now get to have belly ultrasound, with extra-convenient warmed gel. I'm not sure why they didn't use the warmed gel for the trans-vaginal one last time, when it would've done a lot more good...
If mandibles don't do anything for you, how about this fine straight-out-of-the-X-files portrait?
Anyway, the ultrasound was kind of fun (and aided, of course, by the fact that I didn't have to strip). There was a student-doctor in there at the same time asking lots of questions that the nurse found to be stupid, and listening to her explanations to him was quite informative. She kept exclaiming joyfully about Buckethead's brain. "Look at this lobe development! This brain is absolutely textbook! Do you see this brain, Dr. Foolishness? Look at that!" So, Buckethead apparently has an exemplary brain.
Probably the best of the lot. There is a face and a potbelly and it's all very charming and less alien-like than the previous ones. Also you can see the exemplary textbook brain - in profile!
She tried to guess the gender as well for us, but alas, Buckethead was unwilling to show the goods. In addition to scrunching his legs up as tightly as possible, he also insisted on flailing about and refusing to hold still and be seen. This was, of course, extremely adorable (insofar as a creepy skeletal 2-D alien thing can be adorable) and very strange. Last time I saw Buckethead, the best comparison would be a potato. Now there is arm-waving and head-banging going on in there. Bizarre.
Skull and spine and baby belly and ridiculous little feets.
After a report that my fibroid is impressive and the nuchal fold (what they had to look at for the test - the liquid at the back of the neck) seemed normal (huzzah!), they sent me down for a blood draw. After waiting there for nearly an hour, lulled by the shrieks of some poor woman in the next room with apparently invisible veins, I discovered that the genetics counselor was a dirty liar and I would be getting stabbed with a massive needle by the same person who had failed repeatedly to get blood from the previous unhappy soul. Fortunately, I was able to take it valiantly, and I eventually escaped relatively intact, and that is the end of the story. I'll report on the test results when I get them at the end of this week.