Bumplog - distancing myself

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Yesterday we officially entered the second trimester. This should be an exciting time for us, the risk of miscarraige decreases, and the not-so-pleasant symptoms of pregnancy should start to go too, leaving me with the so-called 'blush' of motherhood. But when I looked in the mirror yesterday morning my cheeks weren't rosy and as I gently pulled away the small round plaster from my bump I tried not to think about being pregnant at all.

On Monday we travelled into London for a screening test. With a 1 in 75 risk of Downs Syndrome or another abnormality we elected to have the Chorionic villus sampling (CVS) diagnostic test. We won't know the outcome for a few days. But for some reason, self-preservation I think, and totally subconsciously, I've ever-so-slightly distanced myself from baby.

We travelled into London after lunch, telling DD we had some shopping to do and leaving her in the capable hands of Nana. (I couldn't cope with having DD there to be honest.) When we arrived at the hospital there was a short wait so I busied myself trying to complete the Telegraph crossword. Frankly anything to take my mind off what was about to happen would have worked, a clown would have been nice. Perhaps I should suggest that in the feedback form. Anyhoo, when we were finally called for our turn, a lovely research fellow and a sonographer talked us through what was going to happen. Basically a lot of baby's measurements were going to be taken and they were going to repeat the nucal test and blood tests I'd had done at my local hospital. They were also working on a research project to create a dignostic blood test that would eventually replace the need for the CVS test. We agreed to help with the research by letting our results be used in the sample. If it means that one day DD might be able to have a simple blood test rather than going through what we were about to, we were more than happy to help.

The scan was more of less like any other, just a bit longer. We got to see a lot of baby wriggling about and heard the heartbeat for the first time. (It always makes me whell up and I'm pretty sure I heard OH gulp.) Once the measurements were taken, the sonographer reassured us that as far as anatomy was concerned baby looked fine. I breathed a sigh of relief but she cautioned us that it was the blood test results that had caused us to have a higher risk so anatomy wasn't an indicator for us. I felt cautioned. After a quick cervix check we were sent to wait outside for the CVS test.

I was just trying to remember the name of the director of Twin Peaks (--N-H) when we were called for our turn. The room wasn't the sterile operating theatre that I'd expected, just a large consulting room with a bed and scan machine in the middle. We were talked through what would happen again and asked to sign another set of consent forms. Then I lay down on the bed just like for a normal scan and another research fellow checked the position of my placenta. Luckily this time around it's anterior, which means it's lying on the front of my tummy rather than the back, and makes the procedure a bit easier. When the team had decided on a strategy for taking the sample of the placental cells, the consultant in charge chatted away to us about anything and everything other than what was happening, a welcome distraction that I was so grateful for.

The research fellow gave me an injection of local anaesthetic to numb the skin and then they prepared the sample needle. I decided not to look, but apparently it's about half the width of the needle they use for a blood test. She rested the needle on my bump and asked me to try and relax. The point prickled on my skin for a moment and then I felt some pressure and a small point of discomfort as it entered my womb. It wasn't half as painful as I'd expected it to be, to be honest. They used some suction to hoover up a the sample of cells and then it was all over. The consultant showed us the test tube with my cells, and our future, floating about in it. It seemed strange that such a small amount of matter could decide so much.

I'd read that I would need to rest for a few days and not lift heavy things, like toddlers, but the consultant explained that putting my feet up and having OH cook me dinner wasn't necessary. (Damn.) He said the procedure had gone well and if I didn't have any major pain or bleeding by the time we received the result then the risk of miscarriage was much lower. Notwithstanding the fact that I like having dinner cooked for me, it's been a blessing that I can just get on with things and not think too much about the outcome of the test.

We should know the result within a couple of days.