Even though I have given gallons of blood with each of my pregnancies, I still get sent to the lab for some wayward test almost every visit. This last one, however, was the big TRIPLE SCREEN test, one I haven't had before. With the triplets, they said they wouldn't even bother because the results would be skewed.
Well, that was a week ago yesterday and I haven't heard anything. I'm going to choose to take that as a good sign, though with military care I know it probably means no one has paid attention to the results. Hopefully I will be able to solve that mystery next Tuesday during the cervix measuring party.
As I inch closer to 20 weeks, I grow nervous about all the diagnostic tests and ultrasounds. The symphony of "what ifs" plays along in my head as I ponder the plenitude of genetic mutations, malformations, etc. It's not a delightful tune to be working to, so I guess I need to change that radio dial.
Other than the increasing fears of Pre-term labor, cervix misbehavior, and genetic problems, I'm pretty much okay. But, I guess that isn't saying much. So much of a pregnancy is shrouded in the "wait and see" mentality. Like at my cervix checks, the nurse says "oh, there's a heartbeat...okay, we're done here." Somehow things get much more complicated as I near the 20 week Level II ultrasound. All of a sudden, this vague little blobette will have to "measure up" and I will be biting my nails for him/her.
So, back to the topic of moving. Our house is resembling a wartime zone of stolen booty. My husband has drug out tons of *junk* (to him, long lost treasures) and we are entering into the nasty deliberations over what will go to the yard sale, to the thrift store, or to the moving truck if deemed so worthy.
Only ten more working days for me...I say goodbye to the university during a time of transition (new Dean on the horizon). I won't miss the chaos this transition will foster nor the ugly competitiveness of staff members for a favored spot on the pay scale.
Chhh, chhhh, chhhanges...
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