Let me start this by emphasizing that everything is fine. I am fine. The baby is healthy and fine. It’s just that the last two weeks were spent thinking otherwise.

At my 16 week check up, I opted to have the Triple Screen blood test done. This checks protein and hormone levels in your blood for indicators of neural tube defects, Down Syndrome, and spina bifida, among other problems. In my case, it was recommended because I am 34 years old and will be 35 when the baby is born. The tests are not conclusive and are for preliminary screening. If a positive is returned for any issue, then further testing is recommended to confirm the diagnosis.

Friday morning before Mother’s Day, I received a call from my doctor’s office. Remember, “no news is good news,” so I knew this wasn’t good. My triple screen had come back positive for Down Syndrome. They were referring me to a maternal fetal specialist at the hospital for genetic counseling and an amniocentesis, if we chose to do that. We did. I was told that my doc’s office would send over the info and a nurse from the hospital would call me shortly to schedule the appointment. When the work day was nearly over and I hadn’t heard from anyone, I called my doctor’s office again and was told that the nurse who handled the scheduling was out of the office Friday and I wouldn’t hear from her until Monday.

Despite these sudden new fears and worries and my abrupt declaration that I didn’t want anything to do with Mother’s Day, we spent Sunday with all the rest of the Houston family at my mother-in-law’s house and it was a nice evening.

By mid-day Monday I still hadn’t heard from anyone, so I called my doctor’s office again and was told that the person there who was handling this was out for an emergency. The nurse I spoke with, “Ms. No News Is Good News” herself, told me she had no idea what to do, couldn’t give me the number for the hospital herself, and just told me to wait until Tuesday when the appropriate person would be back in the office. I’m really starting to hate Nurse NNIGN.

Tuesday I finally got a call and an appointment was set up for the following Tuesday, May 20, a week and a half after we originally got the news. Having an appointment scheduled didn’t help us feel any better though. In the mean time, Dale and I spent time researching Down Syndrome and amniocentesis and related subjects. My guilt was relieved in part when I learned that there was absolutely nothing I could have done that would cause this, aside from my age. In fact, I learned that Down Syndrome occurs at conception or even before. That intrigued me a bit because that meant my current age shouldn’t be a factor at all because this pregnancy was from a frozen embryo transfer. The embryo itself was conceived nearly four years ago, at the same time that Olivia was.

Still, nothing that we read was really reassuring, and I quit reading the “Your Pregnancy Week by Week” book when Weeks 16 and 17 turned out to be prenatal screening for birth defects. I think Dale got that same slap in the face from the book.

Last weekend was the best we’d felt since we got the test results. We spent the weekend in Galveston distracting ourselves at Moody Gardens and the beach. It helped a lot. On the way home, Dale made arrangements with his mother to have her babysit Olivia on Tuesday.

Tuesday afternoon, we arrived at the hospital 15 minutes early. I was given a couple of sheets of paper to fill out with Dale and my and our families’ medical histories. This was completed quickly, but we still spent more than 45 minutes waiting to be seen. We were stuck in a waiting area outside the neonatal intensive care unit. During that time, a father brought his newborn son down to see the family members waiting there too. It was a sweet scene. Though I tried not to, I cried.

When we finally got in to see the genetic counselor, one of the first things I questioned was whether my age at the time of conception or my current age was used in the testing, and if that would make a difference. I don’t think I explained myself clearly, because at first she said no, because the proteins they checked for change levels during the pregnancy. When she pulled out the paper with my lab results, we were told that the lab had been given my current age and a last menstrual period of January 1, which would have put me at 18 weeks at the time of the blood draw. The G.C. said the lab was supposed to have been told it was a fetal embryo transfer and my due date was based on that, putting me at 16 weeks at the time of the test, and my age at the time of conception was supposed to be used. This was a three year difference in my age and a two week difference in fetal age, which could definitely alter the results.

What was suggested and we decided to do was have a comprehensive ultrasound performed to date the current age of the baby. Once she had that info, the G.C. was going to call the lab back and give them the correct info to see if they could provide updated results before we left the hospital. Dale and I also decided to wait until we got these results to decide about having the amniocentesis.

The ultrasonographer teasingly referred to the baby as a “pain in the neck” because it wouldn’t hold still for the ultrasound and made getting measurements hard. Still, the ultrasonographer was great about pointing out and explaining to us everything she was looking for and seeing. The baby’s skull circumference, abdomen, forearm, and thigh bone were measured, along with heart rate, and all measured right on target for a gestational age of 18 weeks. Blood flow through the umbilical cord and to the kidneys was fine. It was still a little early to get a good look at the heart an spine, so she recommended another comprehensive ultrasound in four weeks, but overall, everything looked good. There were no physical indicators of Down Syndrome (or other problems) visible on the scan, but those are only noticeable in about half the cases. Still, it was minutely reassuring.

We were given two lovely ultrasound images of the baby, which I still need to scan in and post.

The genetic counselor called in the correct info to the lab but they weren’t able to give her the results right away. She told us it would probably be tomorrow morning but she’d call as soon as she knew anything.

Dale and I left the hospital feeling more hopeful, but also that much more scared. We decided to stop by our house before going to get Olivia, and the phone range minutes after we walked through the door. It was the genetic counselor calling to tell us the lab had just sent her the corrected results, and they were negative for Down Syndrome along with everything else. I thanked her profusely when my crying slowed down enough to let me, and we told her that of course, we didn’t want the amniocentesis.

Needless to say, that phone call was an enormous relief to me and Dale. At the very least, I didn’t have to have a giant needle stabbed into my abdomen. We spent a few minutes together, just feeling the relief, then we went to my mother-in-law’s house to see Olivia and show off the new ulrasound images.

Thanks to pregnancy-bladder, I wake up any time between 3am and 7am needing to pee. This morning I woke up at 4:45am. I was walking into the bathroom when the window behind me lit up from the outside. I turned around and peeked through the blinds. Nothing was in sight, I hadn’t heard anything, like the gate or small door to the garage being opened, but the motion-activated security lights above the garage were shining. As I stood and waited, they went off again, and I could see that the interior garage light was on. I was still trying to process all of this when the security lights turned on again. And again, I saw nothing that could have triggered them. At that point, I simply had to visit the bathroom.

Afterward, I went to the window by the back door and peeked through those blinds. The light had gone off and on again. Still no motion visible outside and the interior garage light was still on as well. Honestly I couldn’t remember if we’d just left it on, because half the time the wiring in there wigs out and the light won’t come on anyway.

I finally got too spooked and woke Dale. I told him what I’d been seeing. We peeked through the back window again. While we watched the light went off then on. I told Dale that was the fourth time I’d seen it happen since I woke up, just 5 or so minutes ago. The next time the light went off, it didn’t turn on again. We suspect the wiring was just wigging out for a bit, which happens frequently in this 30 year old house. (Take our chandelier, for example, which only lights up six out of two dozen lights at any given time, though all the bulbs work. Or the fact that even compact fluorescents only have a lifespan of mere months in some of our lamps.)

I was still pretty spooked, but I was also really damn tired, so we went back to bed. As far as I know, the light didn’t turn on again, and it was off when we got up this morning.

I really don’t like this house.

I woke up sick and miserable on Saturday, so that was pretty much an inactive non-day for me. Sunday I felt better in the morning, but I had to make up for not getting much done lately for being sick in general. (There’s been lots of coughing and snot in the family the past week.)

I had some miniature box bag orders I really needed to finish. Illness and other issues seemed to keep cropping up that kept me from working on them, including literally sanding the tip of my finger until it bled while working on them one day. (I didn’t even feel it. I just saw funny streaks on the sandpaper and wondered where they came from. THEN I saw my finger, and of course, then it hurt.) I finished those up late last night, and I’m really pleased with the end results. They still need to be photographed, but once those pictures are online, I’ll be set to invoice the customers and send them on their ways.

I did take a break from working on the bags to play some Team Fortress 2. I haven’t played regularly in months due to burn out and morning sickness, and I’ve really been missing the game. Well, I didn’t actually play any rounds yesterday. Some folks from my preferred server were messing around working on getting the medic achievements so that’s what we did. It was chaotic and funny at times, but I’m looking forward to playing real matches again.

Dale also talked me into seeing Iron Man at the Alamo Drafthouse, our favorite cinema (chain). I had to alter my usual order (thanks to the gestational diabetes) so no fries for me. I did get the potato skins and shared them with Dale, plus a house salad, then I realized three skins wasn’t going to meet my carb requirement so I made it up with a slice of pecan pie, hah. I ended up missing about 10 plot-turning minutes when I had to check my blood sugar an hour later but Dale quickly and quietly got me caught up. Iron Man is hands down the best movie I’ve seen in a while. I had been so-so about going to see it, figuring we would some time, and at first I said no when Dale asked. I’m so glad that we went. I’d happily see the movie in a theater again, and I am looking forward to the DVD release loaded with extras.

The nice topper to my evening was feeling the baby move for the first time. I’m pretty sure I felt some movement during the movie, and I’m positive I felt it a few times after we got home. That was one of my favorite parts of being pregnant with Olivia, actually getting to feel her move. Feeling movement sure beats morning sickness as a way for baby to say, “hey, I’m still here! Don’t forget about me!”

Overall, I had a very good day, something I haven’t gotten to say much lately.

We got home this evening and found out our home phone doesn’t work. Four phones, no dial tone. I used Dale’s mobile to call ATT. First time through the voice recognition, the system decided I wanted tech support for our internet connection, so it routed me to that department. I hung up and called the main line again. This time I made it through to phone tech support. OMG, who writes these scripts?

What is the number that is having technical problems?
**enter home number**
Is there a dial tone?
**no**
Is the number with the problem the one you’re calling from?
**Wtf? Are you serious? I just said there’s no dial tone!**

I managed to get through the call without speaking to a live person or destroying Dale’s mobile and was told they’d have our line fixed tomorrow “between 8 AM and 7 PM.” Well, thank goodness we don’t have important phone business scheduled for tomorrow.

I guess it could be worse. Our internet connection could be down. *horrors*

I had an appointment at Diabetes America yesterday morning. Livi and I got there a little early to start filling out the inevitable paperwork, and when I was on the last page, the receptionist said, “you HAVE been here before!” I wasn’t sure, but it turned out it was this same place I visited right before and right after Olivia’s birth, but at a location about 45 minutes from here.

I started out with the usual vitals, plus the extra fancy finger prick test. While the nurse was checking my blood pressure, Olivia boggled her by saying, “is she the phlebotomist?” Blood pressure was good, urine was fine (which I was later told was a little unusual, I don’t know why), and my blood sugar level was 118, so-so for having eaten yoghurt 1 1/2 hours ago. The extra fancy blood machine is able to calculate your average blood sugar level for the previous three months and mine was apparently at the high end of non-diabetic. Later the nurse practitioner explained that this means the gestational diabetes is a recent development instead of me being a low-grade diabetic for some time. Good news for me.

The nurse practioner listened to my lungs and checked my eyes and told me I should have a dental check up soon. Apparently plaque build up on teeth has been linked to elevated blood sugars. I am a couple of years overdue for a dentist visit. The N.P. also palpated my uterus and told me I’m measuring a bit high. For being just over 15 weeks, my uterus should be about halfway between the top of my pelvis and my navel. Mine is currently closer to my navel.

After all the tests and exams, I met with the dietician. She showed me how to use my new glucose monitor. I’d brought in my old one but they gave me a new one anyway. At least it’s pack is a little smaller than the old one. We also reviewed how to use the insulin injection pens. I’m not supposed to use them yet. They’re “in case” diet alone won’t bring down my glucose levels. (I expect to be using them in a week. I needed insulin the first time and moderately high doses of it.) The dietician also gave me meal plans with how many carb units I’m to consume per day (unlimited protein and fats though, whee) and when I’m supposed to check my blood sugar (four times a day). I also got a container of ketone test strips I get to pee on every morning.

I left with two small bags of diabetic door prizes, including cereal samples, coupons, and a lot of lotion samples (why those, I don’t know). Later I found out I also left behind my folder of paperwork. Livi and I had stopped by the public restroom on the center’s floor and I left the folder when I grabbed everything else. Fortunately the receptionist found it where I left it so I was able to pick it up shortly after I realized it was missing (and had searched the car twice).

The new glucose monitor is a nice little thing. The finger prick is nearly painless and sometimes I don’t feel it at all. My first test after lunch yesterday, my reading was a bit high at 134. They want it to be 120 or less an hour after eating. After dinner, it was 118, but I hadn’t had a full 3 servings of carbs, more like 2. This morning I ate a granola bar for breakfast that was a little less than 2 carb servings, and my blood sugar level was a whopping 145 an hour later. I am even more firmly convinced I’ll be on insulin in a week.

We need to do some grocery shopping. Most of the snacks we have in the pantry are crackers, pretzels, and chips. Fortunately, we don’t have many sweets, and I haven’t been wanting much of those lately anyway. It’s going to be so hard to give up/cut back on potatoes, fries, rice, et cetera. I am fine without sweets and chips for the most part, but I really am a carb junkie. It really sucked the last time, and I know it’s not going to be fun this time either. Ah well, the end result is worth it!