|"hey, You...stop that!" by ElmWolf, used under CC BY 2.0 / Text bar added by Syncopated Mama|
We returned in two weeks for what we had been told was just a follow-up with my bloodwork. We were quite surprised when the nurse led us back to the room and told us we’d be having an ultrasound. Was something wrong? If so, then we were fine with having another ultrasound if it would help, but we weren’t interested in having this procedure unless it could make a difference in my treatment along the way.
The doctor came in and told us everything looked great with my blood work and asked me to lay back onto the table so he could do the ultrasound. I asked what the ultrasound was for and he said just to look around. I told him we didn’t want it if there wasn’t more of a reason behind it. He couldn’t understand why we wouldn’t want another chance to see our baby. (We just felt like it’s not proven that ultrasounds are completely safe and without any effects on the baby – like bothering those little ears with the sound waves – so why chance it if it’s not necessary) He even offered to do it for free.
Now, I’m all for a good deal and free is as good as it gets, but I again declined the offer. His response? “Fine, if you don’t care about seeing whether your baby’s alive or not…”
Whoa. Not cool. G’s response was that there was just no reason to suspect otherwise and basically dismissed the doctor.
As I was getting dressed, I was pretty shaken up. That’s just not something that should be said to an anxiety-prone woman pregnant for the first time, and at such an “advanced maternal age.”
G was wonderful, telling me that the doctor was looney and reminding me that we had already placed our trust in God that our baby was fine.
We scheduled the next appointment, but went home and immediately began researching alternatives.