Warning - Long

Okay so last Thursday we had our anatomy scan. My husband and I anxiously drove to the office. I had such a full bladder that I thought I’d pee myself on every pothole and railroad crossing.

The waiting room was full of other very pregnant mommas with big smiles and big bellies. Honestly, I get a little belly jealous of other mommas sometimes because even at 21 weeks I’m carrying really small. There was a lot of paperwork because was a new office for us, so they didn’t know me. There was some confusion about the appointment time and we had to wait for a long time. In the midst of the wait I thought to myself, “I’m just gonna walk down the hall to my regular OB and ask what my appointment time was supposed to be.” I had been so anxious about this appointment there was no way I’d have messed up the time and been late. So I walk down the hall to talk to the medical assistant at the front dealer. She confirms that I was indeed correct about my appointment time and tells me “here, I’ll print the referral for you to bring to their office. it might not help you get in any faster but at least they’ll know they made a mistake.” So I thank her and take the print out and head back down the hall.

And while I’m strolling down the hall I take a closer look at the referral.

It says “we are referring this HIGH RISK PREGNANCY PATIENT to your office for a detailed 21 weeks anatomy scan”

I stopped dead in my tracks. High risk? Since when? Why didn’t anyone tell me that? Why wouldn’t anyone mention that to me? Isn’t that pretty fucking important? I wanted to turn around and ask more questions right away but I needed to get back to the other office to not miss my scan.

I walked into the office a little shaken up but just as they were calling us back to the ultrasound room. I barely had time to show my husband the paperwork. He was just as surprised as I was.

The room was dark and there were two ladies there. One lady seemed to be simply assisting but the main technician was so kind. I laid down on the table and warm jelly was rubbed all over my tummy. That was nice, because it’s usually so cold. We began. First, baby’s face. Such a sweet profile.

The head, perfectly round. Baby’s big brain growing just on schedule. On to baby’s belly and inside parts. Two full kidneys. I guess baby had to pee just as badly as I did. Two pumping lungs. The hands appear, one curled into a fist with the thumb and forefinger extended. It catches me off guard, that perfect hand. I used to suck my thumb just like that, with my pointer finger curled around my nose.

I was asking lots of questions. How does this look? What does that mean? What’s that I’m seeing? How’s the heart? Why hadn’t they said anything about the heart?

“Oh,” the tech says. “The heart looks good. All four chambers, valves, all that. Looks great.

But there’s a little something. An abnormality.

With the heart beat. Sounds like an arrhythmia. Let’s take a closer listen.”

And we heard it.

Boom Boom Boom Boom-Boom

The fourth beat like two quick taps on the drum instead of one.

“Do you drink coffee?” the tech asks. “How about soda? Do you eat chocolate? Do you use cocoa butter?”

Yes, yes. Yes I love chocolate. I’ve even started liking dark chocolate these days. And Yes of course, all of the stretch mark lotions on the market are made with cocoa butter.

“No more of any of that,” she says. “Sorry to do that just before the holidays. No more chocolate. Especially dark.”

I felt my whole body tighten. My hands clench my belly. I get jelly on my hands. I didn’t care.

“Okay, you’re done!” she says. “We’ll see you in four weeks...but in the meantime we’re going to get you a referral to a maternal fetal medicine doctor. A pediatric cardiology specialist. Take this form to the front. Bye!”

My eyes searched the screen for one last look of my perfect baby before the doppler was removed from my belly. I reached for my husband’s hand as they wiped all the warm jelly off. My eyes swelled with tears as they handed us a long reel of photos of our baby. There was one of that perfect hand. I stared at it until the tears came. Hot and heavy tears.

I don’t remember going to the front office. I do remember the room being blissfully empty of other big bellied smiling mommas. The same faces I had exchanged knowing and happy glances with just thirty minutes before were all gone. I remember hubby handling the new appointment dates. I remember him saying on the way down the long hallway to the elevator that felt impossibly far away that it was nothing. That everything was fine. That the tech hadn’t seemed in the least bit worried. That our perfectly formed and loved baby, was fine. That he was taking me for tacos. With a Sprite.

How did this happen? Why is this happening? What’s wrong with the baby’s heart? What’s an arrhythmia? How serious is it? All things I instantly began to google and wish I hadn’t. Why didn’t I ask more questions?

Anyway it’s been a really rough weekend. I’m calling my OB’s office first thing in the morning to complain - Why the hell wasn’t I told about being considered a high risk pregnancy? When’s the soonest I can see the cardiologist? Is it too late to get a new fucking doctor? Ya know, the works.

Sorry for such a long post but I’m on edge. Does anyone have any experience with receiving this type of news at a scan? - An abnormal heartbeat? A heart murmur? The baby’s heart itself seems to be formed perfectly but at this point I don’t trust any of them. What if there’s more I don’t know? I already feel as though they haven’t been honest with me throughout this process. Anyone else been labeled high risk without their knowledge?

I’m trying to be grateful for a healthy thriving baby, but again - I don’t know if I can trust my doctors and that feels weird and oddly violating.