The Ultrasound

Friday morning, I had to drag myself out of bed. I was still sick with a bad cold and I felt miserable. The only reason I did get out of bed was because we had an appointment for my 20 week ultrasound at Kaiser. Already past the 20 week mark and with the holidays coming up, I knew re-scheduling would be hard, so I just decided to go. I had been feeling anxious about the ultrasound for weeks, and I just needed it to be over with. Louis took time off work and met me there.

The whole time I drove out to Fremont, I had a one-sided conversation with the baby about what was about to happen. I explained that the sound waves would be loud (some sources say the frequency the baby hears is about the same as a moving train), there would be some heat (ultrasound waves can raise the temperature of amniotic fluid), and there would be some poking and prodding with the ultrasound wand (it hurt!). I also explained that daddy would be there, I would hurry it along as much as possible, and that I really wanted to confirm that we are still okay with planning a homebirth. I tried to convince the baby and myself that this was an okay thing to do.

By the time my name was called, every ounce of my being believed that the ultrasound was unsafe and unnecessary. Feeling miserable both physically and emotionally, I just didn't have it in me to fight their silly rules. When I was called back to the exam room, the tech said Louis had to wait in the waiting room until she came to get him. It was stupid of me not to protest.

In the room, I was told to lie down on a table, and before I knew it (or consented), there was warm gel all over my belly and the tech had started the ultrasound. At that point, I asked her if I could also see the images on the screen. She said no. A few minutes later, I quietly asked her if she could explain what she was seeing. Again, she replied with a simple no. She continued moving the wand around while silently starting at the screen. I had no idea what was happening, what she was seeing, how much longer it would be, or why Louis couldn't be there with me. Fighting back tears, I thought about how much I just wanted him to come hold my hand. I silently pleaded with the baby to forgive me for hurting him/her.

Finally, she said, "Your baby's head is really low in your pelvis and I'd like you to walk around a bit to see if you can get it to move."

As I walked around, all I could think was, "MY BABY HAS A HEAD!!" So much for being calm and rational. Of course I knew there was a baby in there this whole time, but when she actually mentioned the baby, I was somehow relieved that I hadn't actually been making this whole thing up.

After what seemed like forever but was probably about 45 minutes, she allowed Louis to come into the room so we could both see the baby's image on the screen. She spent a whole 2 minutes showing us the monitor so we could see the outline of the baby's head, spine, and body parts. It was really amazing to watch. I've seen lots of ultrasounds performed, but there was something very special about seeing my own baby move around.

I know I'm biased, but not only is our baby beautiful, it is also rather brilliant. The most dangerous part of receiving an ultrasound (I believe) is the effect it has on brain and neurological development. I was super touched to see that our little one had his or her head wedged down in my pelvis, protecting itself as much as possible from the ultrasound waves. I love our little peanut so much.

As the tech was showing us the screen, I noticed the placenta and asked her if there was any sign of previa (when the placenta covers the opening of the cervix). She laughed. She never said yes or no, she just laughed. Maybe she didn't know, or maybe she really wasn't supposed to say, but I thought being laughed at on top of everything else was just the ultimate hurt.

When the ultrasound was over, the tech handed me a towel, told me the report would be sent to my doctor in a couple days, and left the room. I was a little stunned, because I was completely exposed, my belly (and my shirt) was full of gel, and apparently I was supposed to clean myself off. I have never treated a pregnant woman as poorly as I have been treated at Kaiser. At the very least, I always wipe the gel off their belly, help them sit up, answer their questions, and even get them a glass of water. There has been absolutely no dignity involved in the "care" I've received thus far.

I'm furious with Kaiser but I'm also angry at myself for not demanding more respect. Seriously, why do I have to demand it? Why am I treated like a freak when I ask questions and express my opinion? There was absolutely no reason Louis couldn't have been with me the whole time, instead of waiting like a stranger in the waiting room. It's his baby, too. I feel like I failed him. I'm so disappointed in myself. What a miserable experience.

The good news that came out of it all was that our baby is growing just perfectly, the placenta is in a great spot, and there is no physical reason why a homebirth would be anything other than perfectly safe for me and the baby. Kaiser can shove it. On the ride home, I apologized over and over again to the baby and vowed that I would never again intentionally put him or her in danger. I should have trusted my instinct, but I will from now on.