Almost halfway there

I've been relatively mum on the subject of my pregnancy, partly because I didn't want it to become a pregnancy blog, and partly because I felt really, really nervous and upset about being 35 and spawning (thanks, genetic counselors!). In fact, I was mistakenly given a quad screen blood test when I was only supposed to have an AFP (which determines the likelihood of spina bifida), and ended up getting a positive for Down Syndrome. The percentage of me actually having a chromosomally abnormal child? About three quarters of a percent. And this is a test that is less accurate than a previous test I was given, and also has a much higher false positive rate. This week, I had a Level II ultrasound in which everything looked absolutely fine, and now I feel much better and more positive about everything.

Booby thinks that the whole genetic counseling bit is a huge racket to "sell" amniocentesis (or, rather, he just corrected me, "They are trafficking in uncertainty."), and even suggested that the counselors receive a kickback or have a quota for the procedure. I don't want to think that's true, but considering that a similar "selling" of mammography has overtaken this country (as I think I mentioned in my breast cancer post), I wouldn't be surprised. Medicine is a big business, and the idea that this genetic counseling company (they are basically consultants for hospitals, not employees of the hospital itself) can promise you certainty is, I'm sure, a huge selling point for many expectant mothers/parents.

But anyway. The point here is that I feel OK about it all now, and the Little Bun (whose sex we have elected not to discover; thank you, my patient husband) has been doing all kinds of acrobatics in the oven of my uterus, which is kind of thrilling. We got to see feet and hands (and fingers and toes, all accounted for) and a spine and brain measurements and all that good stuff. As I approach the relative milestone of 20 weeks, it's nice to feel a little more excited and less apprehensive about all this -- at least until the idea of labor and delivery begins to haunt my psyche.

And now, a shot of the belly. Looks bigger in real life, but only in the last week or so have people begun asking me if I'm pregnant (and then only when I'm wearing something form-fitting).