A Mother's Worst Fear

I received a call from the genetic counselor on Monday regarding my second trimester Triple Screen test, which seemed to indicate a higher than normal chance of Down Syndrome for my baby. She told me not to worry and told me I can get an amniocentesis to diagnose for DS. I can't sleep at night. I have cried and prayed. I have called everyone I know and trust, hoping for some advice on whether to get the amnio done or not. I have discussed it with my husband and he places the decision squarely on my shoulders.

I know, in my heart of hearts, that I will love this baby, no matter how he or she turns out. I believe I can deal with a baby with Down Syndrome. But my husband is not so certain and I can't blame him. Raising a child with a disability is a major thing.

After much prayer, advice-seeking, and a lot of research, I finally decided to go ahead and have the procedure done. Early this morning, my husband and I drove silently to the hospital for the test. The nurses who greeted us were very friendly and helpful.

When it was time for the test, my husband and I were ushered into a small room furnished with an ultrasound machine and a stretcher. The doctor smiled and introduced herself and her nurse helped me onto the stretcher. On the ceiling directly above me were pictures of handsome Hollywood men and a poster of a sandy beach and a palm tree. The doctor told me to relax and just stare at the pictures on the ceiling. She took ultrasound images of the baby and told her nurse that I had an anterior placenta. After a minute of examining my baby, she took out a very long needle and told me to relax. "This won't hurt at all," she said before she plunged the needle into my belly. She had lied to me: it hurt and I lost my breath.

My husband could see I was in pain and started rubbing my arm. I feared for my baby at that moment. Will the doctor accidentally poke her with the needle? Can my baby feel my anxiety? Will he or she be OK?

After they finished taking out the requisite amount of amniotic fluid and pulled the needle out, the doctor smiled and said, "That's it! You're done. Do you want to see your baby on the ultrasound screen?" I don't remember what I said but she started pointing out the baby's backside, feet, side profile and cute little fingers. Then I was ushered out of the room and brought to a recliner, where I was required to sit for at least 20 minutes. I was anxious, in pain, worried and racked with guilt. What have I done? Have I risked my baby's life?

Now it is just a matter of waiting for the results. I don't think I will be getting much sleep tonight.