We Three...

It has rained all week. Pelting, thunderous rain. The turbulent sky has reflected my emotions. I saw two rainbows. They represent the optimism & hope I stash in my pocket. We had our Doctor's appointment. I have gained 3 kilos and am the proud new owner of a screaming high blood pressure. We sat in the waiting room next to a gloriously pregnant lass and her husband. The former jealous, presumptuous infertile in me sprang forth and I envied her carefree demeanor. She looked so secure there in her 8th month. Sipping coffee and thumbing through "New Woman". I fumbled with my spanking new pregnancy folder & mountain of google print outs. Reading "Woman's Day" was out of the question for me. The only ones on offer sported front covers with Bec Cartwright, Princess Mary & Naomi Watts. A heart attack was certainly impending. Even P refused a copy of "Wheels" magazine. We agreed that we were more nervous sitting there than we'd been getting our Beta results. We watched Judge Judy instead. Christ, her snarkiness hit a nerve. I'm angry too, Jude. Nonsense gets under my skin too..and nitwits...and nuchals.....
"Hello...come on in" Dr J roused our attention.

Our Doctor is the epitome of calm, factual, compassionate, personal & nerdy. Just what you want in a Ob/Gyn. He carefully listened to all my meticulous research. He "hmmm'ed" as I laid out graphs. He clicked his pen as I gallantly educated him on "IVF False Positive Syndrome". I was assertive, yet pathetically grasping at straws. What I wanted Dr J. to say was this: "You know what groovy gal? Not only are you a Google Genius and awesomely knowledgeable..you are also absolutely correct! This high risk reading has got to be a mistake! I'm certain of it. Now you & P go home.. relax...watch a movie..heck, slow dance naked if you want. I'll promptly downgrade the High Risk to No Risk and see you crazy kids in a month. No consultation fee today! Now scat!"

Instead, we heard that our risk factor came back at 1 in 24.
Dr J pointed out that High Risk is High Risk. Whether it be 1 in 250 or 1 in 10. The results simply conclude that Trisomy 21 may be present. Flipside is a 98% chance that Hef will be the most perfect baby since...well...me. That's fantastic (although probably unrealistic...I was a darn fine baby).
Jesting aside here are the are 4 possible scenario's for our little family.
1: Decline the amnio. Accept the odds. Continue the pregnancy hoping all is well.
2: Do the amnio. Get good results. Continue the pregnancy. Knowing all is well.
3: Do the amnio. Get bad results. Decide if we terminate the pregnancy.
4: Do the amnio. And miscarry. Possibly a perfectly healthy baby.

My doctor posed the question. Which outcome would be worse in our eyes? Delivering a full term baby that has Trisomy 21 (Downs) or miscarrying a healthy baby at 16 weeks? Wow. I'll just take the healthy baby thanks. Bottom line: A decision has to be made.
If I reflect on how bloody awful these past 7 days have been I don't know that I could put myself through 6 more months of that. The constant, heavy worry. The anxiety filled dreams. The fear. The complete lack of interest in my work and friends. The distance I have placed between my heart and my pregnancy. The not knowing is incredibly tough. I seriously doubt I will enjoy a single minute of the remaining pregnancy with such a dreaded black cloud over our lives. I am sad about that. Even though we haven't definitely decided on the amnio...my heart tells me 'tis our path. To keep my sanity I need concrete information.
Thank goodness P & I don't have wildly different opinions based on morals, religion or ambivalence. I can't even fathom how amplified the stress would be in a relationship where you have opposing views.
We are in this together. Mony, P and Hef. The 3 Musketeers. All for one and fuck it all.
Thanks for listening and all your comments.