To the telemarketer who called tonight at 8:36
Posting it just so I can remember

Perfect already

So as you can imagine, one of the common subjects of discussion around here is baby names. I am personally not interested in delving too deeply into the subject until we know the sex of the baby, and have mostly responded to suggestions with an indulgent smile. Since I'm not playing, Clay is having a field day, coming up with outrageous suggestions, trying to get me to respond. He's currently insisting that if it's a boy his name will be Obadiah Bartholemew. My husband is adorable, and a little insane. At least he's given up on Claybo or Clayrina.

Last week I had an appointment for an ultrasound. Not just any ultrasound, this was a fancy-schmancy nuchal translucency scan. This is a new thing, apparently. I know no one particularly cared what the boys' nuchal folds were up to, but this pregnancy seems to be happening a whole new world. 

Now, I like to think of myself as a fairly calm person. However, this test somehow slipped me into a tizzy. Want to know what I kept myself up with, fretting, in the wee hours of the morning? The fact that when I wrote here about the pregnancy I said, "...there will be..." as though I were a 23 year old child, bubble headed and unaware of all that can go wrong between two pink lines and a baby. (Not that ALL 23 year olds are bubble headed. I certainly was.) And here I was, of Advanced Maternal Age, blithely skipping into a pregnancy as though most of my eggs wouldn't float in a glass of water (you know, if you were checking themfor freshness? Nevermind).

The scan was done at a testing facility that specializes in this sort of thing, and performed by a woman who seems completely over the wonder of seeing fetuses on her fuzzy little screen. She was kind of irritated with me in the first place, because this scan is REALLY recommended for women UNDER 35, while I should be sticking with the amnio style of testing. I explained that I was NOT going to be having an amnio (um, hello, increased risk of miscarriage plus BIG CRAZYNEEDLE IN THE BELLY, thanks anyhow) and this was my compromise with my OB as far as risk assessment. She was not pleased with me OR my OB.

Nonetheless, I had my magic insurance card plus co-pay, which opens many a door in the medical world, and we were soon headed back to a dimly lit room and a squirt of cold goo on the belly. Cranky Tech fired up the machine, wielded her wand, and there he was. Or she. I'm willing to admit the possibility. Don't get excited, it's still too early to tell if it's a boy or a girl.

However, it's not too early to tell it's a baby. There s/he was, squirming away from the irritating thing poking around, waving stubby little arms, kicking tiny matchsticks of legs. The last time I'd had an ultrasound, all I'd seen was frilly curve of life, pulsing with that amazing flicker of a heartbeat. Now there was an entire person, in miniature. 

"There's the stomach, and we can see that baby's swallowing fluid, so that's a good sign. And there's the heart, and there are the intestines. They're in the right place. See that gray line? That's the diaphragm." She went on, a detailed tour of tiny, intricate anatomy. She ran her finger along the line of dots indicating the spine, and I could almost hear a sound, like a finger run along piano keys. Everything looked just as it should, and despite my advanced age, I watched the screen and leaked happy tears.

Then we were done, and I offered up my finger for a poke. As Cranky Tech squeezed my fingertip to extract enough blood to saturate the circles on her little card, she took the opportunity to urge me again to reconsider the amnio.

"This screening isn't a diagnostic tool. It only tells you your risk for certain problems. An amnio will tell you everything you need to know, not only about the conditions we talked about today, but about hundreds of others."

I thanked her, but thought about the squirming little being I'd just seen on the screen. Already I'd slipped from the realm of "possible child" to a recognition of "there is my child." There is no test that I needed to tell me he or she is perfect. Like all of our kids, this one is already both perfect and flawed. If there are "conditions" that need to be dealt with, so be it. I've never yet met a child WITHOUT some sort of special needs, anyhow. 

I know what I need to know already. This is my baby.


And his/her name is NOT Obadiah.



Sorry about the grumpy tech, and the baby is obviously beautiful already. Are the boys excited by the prospect of a new sibling?


Stupid medical people. I had the same problem as you, and got soooo tired of people urging me to do things I had already said I wouldn't do. I finally yelled at my Dr. one day "I'm going to keep this baby no matter what, so I'm not going to do anything invasive. Either get on board with that or I'll find someone else." I found someone else. May your grumpy tech be the last idiot you encounter on your journey to that beautiful baby prize.


"I know what I need to know already. This is my baby."

That is perfect, Kira. You always say things so well.

And those babies are beautiful from the very beginning, aren't they?


I hear you on the techs and the doctors and all that. I refused even the NT and whoa, was I in trouble... I said that if the Level II showed problems, then I'd *consider* an ultrasound so we'd be prepared. That was my compromise.

You know - everything CAN look perfect and you still have "problems". I still wouldn't trade my little guy for anything - and we certainly have landed in Holland (autism). What scares me is that so many poeple would not have him... and the world would miss out. My life would be so incomplete without him.


OF COURSE not Obadiah. Sheesh. Clay needs to knock it off. That baby is CLEARLY a Charlemagne.

Ow! Stop hitting!!


Now, now. I had a book that I *LOVED* when I was a kid, about a little Puritan boy named Obadiah who befriended a seagull. And you know, little Puritan boys didn't have very much to entertain them, so a friendship with a seagull was a VERY big deal. I'll admit the name isn't all that practical for non-Puritans, but I still like it.

Although, Mir's suggestion is good too. Can't you just see it? "These are my boys, Trey, Max, Rafael and Charlemagne." Yep, it fits right in.


That is most definately a girl - look at that precious little nose!!! I see pink!! Although I love boys and would have four or five of them if I could. I just need that new husband before my eggs are cooked!

Jill W.

My parents always told my sister that if she would have been a boy they were going to name her Jeremiah Obadiah.

I was of Advanced Maternal Age when I had my daughter. We lucked out and got a wonderful perinatologist who did an ultrasound and blood work and all of that and did some calculus wherein she determined that the risk of the baby having any of the stuff they screen for was lower than the risk of miscarriage from the amnio, so she did not push amnio at all. Pregancy is hard enough without having to deal with non-supportive medical personnel.

I say get a new tech. Can you go somewhere else for the next ultrsound?


Another mother of Advanced Maternal Age here who politely refused the amnio. My doctor didn't give me any trouble -- just pushed the blood tests and two ultrasounds. Everything was fine.


I went through a similar experience, not only as an "older" first-time mom at 36, but also because I was pregnant with twins. I, too, refused the amnio and went with the Level II ultrasound. We were firm in that we would not would have done anything but wait for the blessed arrival anyways, especially considering all we went through to get pregnant in the first place. My son and daughter are now 8 1/2 and healthy (thank God)! Best wishes and infinite happiness to you and your growing family!




Your baby is so lovely. Oh yay. LOOK. LOOK AT YOUR LOVELY BABY. I am all moist over here for Obadiah Clayborina.


I stumbled over here after Googling AMA, "researching" a potential blog post. In other words, I was procrastinating. But..... I am so glad i did. You are a great writer. I like the image of this "And here I was, of Advanced Maternal Age, blithely skipping into a pregnancy as though most of my eggs wouldn't float in a glass of water" a lot. I'm an old lady mom as well. No needles in the stomach for me. Good luck!

Amber's Crazy Bloggin' Canuck

How seriously exciting for you! I wish I'd had a chance to talk to you more at Mama's Night Out but I'm getting caught up now. :-)

And let's not even talk about baby names. My husband and I are not even pregnant yet and we're already disagreeing about them!


My first child has that blessed extra 21st chromosome. (aka Down syndrome) You would not believe the shock, dismay and frustration I caused countless medical folks when with each of my other pregnancies (3!!!) I refused all genetic counseling, tests and other such stuff. I knew what I was in for and was ok with my choice. Good for you for doing what was right for you!!!

Congrats on your pregnancy- I usually just lurk along here, but had to comment here!

Karate Mom

"There is no test that I needed to tell me he or she is perfect. Like all of our kids, this one is already both perfect and flawed."
AWWWWW! What a great post!! Made me tear up a 'lil bit! *sigh* Wee babies waving wee arms in amniotic fluid!

Amma D

"An amnio will tell you everything you need to know"... As if!!! That's a medical illusion. As if anything could tell you "everything you need to know" about any child. It certainly can't tell us what we want to know about why they have those odd quirks.


i love you yes i do
and i know you don't have magical powers... wait do you??

anyways i need to know what the baby is
i want to know if i get another brother(omg 5 of them) or a lovely adorable sister!!!
i love you alot
and everyone else

The comments to this entry are closed.