Didn't mean to frighten you

"It's a little late for that!"

Sorry for the lack of update since Friday's appointment. All is well, I've just had a busy weekend, in between fits of pregnancy-induced narcolepsy. We saw Dr. McFly again on Friday, a mere seventy minutes or so past our scheduled appointment time. He was in scrubs, so there was no indiscreetly unfastened crotch-flap to distract us. I had a quick transvaginal u/s first to check my cervix (still long and closed up tight) and then he switched to the abdominal transducer. With my pants still off and my lower body still covered by a mere flimsy paper sheet. Which normally wouldn't bother me, but...well, I'll get there. Anyway, Baby B (placenta attached on the upper left) was bouncing all over the place and turning occasional somersaults (showoff!), so it was fairly easy to capture an image of the back of her (totally guessing here) neck to get the measurement.

Baby A (lower right), on the other hand, was asleep. On his back. (Again guessing at the sex; we didn't see anything.) So Dr. McFly whacked on my belly with the transducer, and when that didn't work he tried it a few times more (pretty hard) in an attempt to wake the kid up, or at least jog him into a better position. Ezra asked if that sort of thing actually worked, to which the good doctor responded, "Not usually," before giving me another firm thwap for good measure. It actually made me giggle a bit (when I wasn't thinking about the fact that it hurt), and Dr. McFly said that that may wake the kid up. He threatened to tell silly jokes to get me to laugh some more, and just the thought of that made me giggle again, but no dice. So then he had me roll way over to the left, then back and to the right. Not too much of a problem, except remember the part where my lower body is covered only by a flimsy paper sheet? Yeah, that would be my ass hanging out in the wind. And while I really don't have a problem showing off my vulva and associated girl parts to anyone in scrubs or a lab coat, my butt is private business. So each roll started with a tilt of just about fifteen degrees. "No, roll further." Thirty degrees, tugging the sheet a bit in the opposite direction so as not to moon Ezra. "No, you really need to roll all the way." Sixty degrees, maybe? And now the medical student in the room can see my pregnancy-induced butt-acne. "All the way, please?" Fine, up on my hip, a full ninety degrees, and could you please shut that window? It's drafty in here. Return to my back, and repeat the same on m y right side. This evenutally seemed to do the trick, though Baby A did not appear to be in a happy mood after being awoken from his slumber (would you be?) and probably settled back into sleep within a few minutes. But we got a measurement of the area behind his neck, and for now that's all that counts. Besides, I don't think I'll coomplain much if one of the babies turns out to be easy to put to sleep.

Holy crap, did I call them babies this whole time?

Anyway, both nuchal folds measured fairly thin. We don't get actual numbers until my blood test results come in at the end of this week, but Dr. McFly estimates that the adjusted risk for cardiac problems, Down Symdrome, and certain other trisomies will be very low. It's a major relief, and I think that just maybe I'll be able to relax and enjoy the pregnancy a bit more now.

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In a mostly unrelated matter, I came across these Letters to the Editor in the New York Times from some number of days back, in response to an article about President Bush's veto of the bill that would have expanded federal funding for embryonic stem cell research, specifically allowing for the creation of new lines from embryos created through IVF that the couples in question would otherwise discard. One letter in particular struck a cord:

To the Editor:

As a nurse and health care provider for the last 30 years, I have always been concerned with the ethical issues surrounding health care. I am confused by the argument that the stem cell research bill has violated President Bush’s principles on the sanctity of human life.

To me, the debate regarding the sanctity of human life should begin with the whole concept of in vitro fertilization. I am not opposed to in vitro fertilization, but we must admit that we have already crossed the line between science and ethics with this technology.

It is disingenuous to support in vitro fertilization and not support stem cell research. With in vitro fertilization, precious health care dollars are spent creating embryos to satisfy individuals’ selfish need for children who match their own DNA. There are so many adoptable children already born into this world that it seems immoral to create “adoptable embryos.”

The ethical and moral obligation lies with saving lives, not saving potential lives.

JoAnne Gatti-Petito
Turnbull, Conn., July 20, 2006

I'm going to set aside the stem cell part of this letter and focus on those two sentences that I highlighted in bold. Could someone please tell me where all of these wonderful "adoptable children" who are "already born" are, so we can get them to some desperate infertile couples posthaste? If there's such an overabundance of these children, it seems downright unthinkable that the process of adoption for an infant (or young toddler) takes something like two years for international adoptions and three years for domestic U.S. adoptions. Not to mention that it's not free, not by a long shot, and the few lucky infertile couples who do have coverage for fertility treatment under their health insurance plans often have no such financial assistance for the adoption process.

And note that it's only a few, in the grand scheme of things, who have that medical coverage - most fertility treatment in this country is paid for out-of-pocket, and I doubt those "precious health care dollars" (read: life savings and second mortgages) would be going for other forms of health care. More likely those funds would go toward the not-so-cheap adoption process.

Finally, who the hell are you to tell us that we are "selfish" for wanting children who share our DNA? Are we any more selfish than the 85% or so of the population who reproduce with abandon and at will, at no expense to themselves greater than a couple of cocktails and a flimsy negligee to set the mood? Why must the burden to adopt (and here I'm sure the writer is thinking of the children with debilitating diseases, the sibling groups from abusive homes, the abandoned teenagers who'd otherwise be raised by gangs, because the shiny new heathly newborns are certainly in short supply) - why must that burden fall to the infertile? What makes me any more selfish than my friend down the block who also is pregnant with her first child? I, and most other infertile people, suffer from diagnosed and often treatable medical conditions through no fault of our own. (I will not touch the topic of vas reversals and such here. I don't feel that those couples are an less deserving, but it's beside my basic point, which is...) Should we deny coverage for chemotherapy and radiation treatment, because cancer is "natural" and the desire to extend one's life is "selfish?" How about prenatal care for fourth, fifth, and sixth pregnancies? After all, that's more than one couple's fair share of children in this world. (The replacement rate for "developed" countries is about 2.1 live births per woman.)

I know that one sentence was not the main thrust of this woman's letter. Still, I can't help but let it get to me. I know how much it hurt me to read it, and I can't imagine the pain it may have caused so many others. And if my choice to pursue medical treatment in order to bring children into this world - children who share a genetic link to me and my husband, whose prenatal health and earliest days I can control to the best of my ability - if that makes me selfish, than so be it.