Like the stereotypical first-time mom, I brought a full sheet of questions to my preliminary obstetrics appointment. My healthcare provider gave me her full attention and took the time to respond to each of my inquiries, and by the end of the appointment, I could tell she was both competent and confident. One of the topics we discussed was the ultrasound. She explained that her office’s policy is to do one during the first trimester, one at 20 weeks to confirm the gender, and additional scans only as complications arise.
After conducting some research of my own, I decided that I wanted to limit ultrasound exposure, so I kindly asked if she would be comfortable with forgoing the first scan. She said that moms rarely ask for that because of how eager they are to see their baby on the big screen, but she told me that it wouldn’t be a problem at all. (The primary purpose of the first trimester ultrasound is to predict the due date, and because she and I were able to use my health history to determine that, the ultrasound was no longer necessary.)
Needless to say, by the time the gender confirmation ultrasound rolled around, I was more than ready to “meet” our baby. Mr. Handsome and I patiently waited while the technician took photos of all the vital organs before moving on to the more recognizable parts, such as the hands, feet, and head. (Something that I was unprepared for was how uncomfortable the ultrasound was. The technician really had to press hard to get a good scan, and while she was as gentle as possible, it was still painful, and apparently that’s normal.)
The gender announcement came at the end, and it was a very emotional moment for both of us. Due to the way our baby was positioned, we didn’t get great shots of his face, so I really cherish the few photos that we do have. I printed them off and hung them up in our kitchen, with a reminder to pray for our little guy.
(Ironically, baby is doing a lot of kicking while I write this post. Either he’s hungry for dinner or he knows I’m writing about him!)