En route to our 20-week ultrasound last week, I was nearly overwhelmed with nerves. I've mentioned before that I have tended to approach each appointment with a stoic attitude, prepared for the worst. My biggest concern this time would be that the ultrasound would show no kidneys, or some similar malformation that is not consistent with life outside the mother.
I tried to calm myself down, thinking "what are the chances of something like that happening, especially when I've already had such unlikely things happen to me?" But for anyone who's repeatedly been on the wrong side of the stats, this is less than compelling. I had two miscarriages in a row (there's a 1 in 20 chance of this happening) and then found out I had a rare uterine malformation (there's an estimated 1 in 6000 chance of this happening). I'm no stranger to the short end of the statistics.
Steve came with me to this appointment. We had to wait longer than usual in the waiting room, and I tried to remain calm while the clock ticked on. After what seemed like a long time, we were called back. The ultrasound tech started doing her thing. Once again, the little bugger was deemed "very active" and it took her a while to check all her details. Finally, she announced that everything looked normal, and I was finally able to relax.
I did confirm from the doctor that I am already having contractions. He said I have an "irritable uterus" and told me that's pretty normal for a woman with a unicornuate uterus. He told me to stay hydrated and lie down when the contractions come, and he gave me the signs to watch for that would indicate I should hightail it to the hospital. I've been chugging Gatorade ever since.
We also found the baby's sex. I'd had a strong feeling that it's a boy. Of course, I had a 50-50 chance of being right. I was shocked to find out for sure: it's a girl!