All Akimbo: The Ultrasound Appointment (finally!)

By Kim Blakely, Mojo’s mama

I was so nervous about my ultrasound appointment that I woke up at 5:30 a.m. and by 8 a.m. I had showered and dressed, vacuumed the entire downstairs, washed the dishes in the sink, made Mojo his breakfast, and a whole host of other things I can’t even remember.

Naturally I arrived at the radiology center early. AND, miracle of miracles, I got called back for my ultrasound early. My husband hadn’t yet arrived and I was worried momentarily that he would miss the whole thing. No need to fret, though – he showed up as I was disrobing in my little curtained cubicle and all was well.

So … the technician asked me a few questions about why on earth I was having an ultrasound so darned early, and I was answering as best I could without grabbing the wand from her and inserting it myself so I could just see what was going on in there already.

She finally got around to doing what I had come there for her to do, and although in hindsight I very much appreciate the thorough explanations she gave for what she was looking for and what she saw, at the time I just wanted her to cut to the chase. I wanted to know if there was, indeed, a living baby in there, and was it in the right place.

There is!! And it is!!

(An ectopic pregnancy was a real concern in my case. My doctor told me after my laparoscopy in February that the ends of my left fallopian tube were ruffled from the endometriosis and she wasn’t sure it would work the way it should. As yet another aside, this technician was the same one who gave me good news last year that a painful, walloping nearly-5 cm cyst on my left ovary was shrinking. I was hoping she was going to give me good news again, but I wasn’t entirely sure my luck could hold out.)

The baby measured 6 weeks 5 days, although by my calculations I’m actually 6 weeks 2 days. Huge difference, I know.

And oh, people … the heartbeat. When I heard the heartbeat, it was all I could do to mouth the word, ‘Wow.’ I was in utter and complete awe of that sound and of the corresponding flicker in the picture on the screen.

The heart rate fluctuated between 117 and 120 beats per minute – completely normal, the technician assured me.

The technician seemed almost apologetic as she handed us the ultrasound pictures before we left. It didn’t look like much, she said, but it’s still early.

But to me, it looked like a masterpiece. I’m seriously considering framing it and hanging it over the mantle.