Look at this adorable blob! It looks somewhat vaguely human? * laughs *
Way back when we were looking into fertility treatments, we went to the UZ Gent hospital first. We weren’t impressed with their way of working, so we ended up going to London instead. Then, after our treatment in London, we contacted them again to ask whether we could do a frozen embryo transfer there, and we were refused treatment. So really, it was my own fault that we even went there again!
It’s just that the gynaecologist I wanted to go to didn’t have time to see me yet, so it was either go to the UZ for this scan, or not see baby Sunshine again at all until the 12+ week scan.
I really did want to see this little one wiggle about, so we braved making an appointment at the UZ once more.
We end up in a busy waiting room, in between lots of women with prams and others with giant bellies. I am definitely the least pregnant one in the room! I am also fanning myself as I am both dizzy and nauseous, because of course…
After a wait, we are led in to see a midwife, who quickly goes over a questionnaire with us, scolds us when we say we don’t know yet whether we want this pregnancy to be followed at the UZ, and then leads us out to the waiting room again.
Then it’s time to see an assistant. This is someone who is training to be a gynaecologist, and who is going to scan me. I’m instructed to undress my lower half and lie there with my legs open, in the middle of the room, no cover or decency allowed in this hospital!
Finding the baby and its heartbeat was such an easy, nearly-instantaneous process in the fertility clinic when I had this done. But now, this assistant moves the wand. And moves it. A blob flashes by, then disappears again. The image shakes. She tries again, and again.
It takes so long for her to confirm that there even is a baby in there that I grab Jo’s hand. This isn’t good. I can’t make out a heartbeat on there either.
I tell myself to wait another moment, another…
Eventually I can’t take it any more and blurt out, ‘Is there a heartbeat?!”
“Yes,” the assistant says. Never the less, it takes her another full minute of manoeuvring the thing inside of me before we get to see the vaguest, pixelated glimpse of our baby.
I don’t see anything moving, until we really focus on one vague spot. It’s nowhere near as clear a scan as it was in abc clinic, I get the feeling that the equipment is at least a few decades older here, but having that confirmed I am released. There, done.
It is all rather anticlimactic. I clean up, dress, and then the actual gynaecologist comes in for literally TWO minutes, in which she tells us to stay at their hospital, with midwives if we really want to, then leaves again.
To top it all off I ask the assistant about a problem I’ve been having, and she claims that ‘It has nothing to do with pregnancy.’
With those wise words we are sent off to wander the hallways again. Later I find out that it did in fact have to do with pregnancy, it’s because I have an IVF pregnancy and the hormones I am on, but clearly she wasn’t informed on that.
So in the end… Baby, it’s nice to have caught a glimpse of you, and to know that you are growing. We now know that you have legs, and arms, and that your heart is still beating.
But dear god, we are never going there again! I want a competent medical professional overseeing this pregnancy please…