I have my 14-week appointment at the hospital. My partner comes with me and I'm grateful for his company and concern. I feel like a bad sailor in a storm - sick beyond belief. We get shunted from pillar to post at the hospital but eventually go to have our ultrasound scan and are informed that after the scan we can leave with a souvenir: a photo of our baby.
My bump is still small but my boobs are getting much bigger. It is easy to hide the fact that I am pregnant. No one knows at work, even very few of my friends know because I do not want to tempt fate with an announcement that I might want to renounce. But it is stressful to hide my engulfing nausea. I hoped that I would have a scan at 12 weeks, just as the books tell you (though I took them back to the library because they were just too scary at this point in my pregnancy) so it has seemed a long wait. I also need someone to confirm to me that I am actually pregnant. I feel like I have been in denial. The doctor did not do a test at the surgery. Only a small pink spot is confirming my fate and I do not entirely trust it.
In the ultrasound room I lie on the bed and the lady smears my abdomen with a cold gel then she glides the small handheld monitor over it and a picture pops up on the screen. There is a small blobby shape moving slowly. That is our baby. I am instantly stunned by the enormity of the situation. I have a minute person growing inside me - she is about 6cm long and fully formed. My eyes start to water. We are told everything seems fine and are given our grainy, rather imperceptible photo, which we clutch as proof of the pudding. Then we proudly file down to the antenatal waiting room.
We are called in to see a midwife called Emma who hands over a pack of information about the hospital, the labour wards, diet and general pregnancy care. She tells us I have a choice of GP care, shared care (visiting the GP and the hospital) or the one-to-one midwife scheme where I would only see her on home visits. The last option is a postcode lottery and for once we are winners. I have taken to her instantly so decide that it would feel far more reassuring to get to know the midwife I will have at the time of labour. She explains the various tests to me. There is a Triple Test - a blood screening test for Down's Syndrome and neural tube defects (spina bifida and anencephaly). I am also offered an HIV test. They are optional but most women have them. I definitely want them. I am 35 and already classed as a geriatric mother. I want to be as sure as possible that everything will be okay.
