This was the week we had been waiting for for so long – sonogram week! Since we found out at already 2.5 weeks, we had to wait an excruciating 7.5 weeks for the 10-week sonogram. I think they do things differently in every country but here in Aruba they give you your first one around 10-11 weeks. My pregnancy had been such a roller coaster up until this point, and although I hadn’t wanted to admit it to myself, there was an underlying fear that something would go wrong. There is so much talk about miscarriage during the first trimester, and even though I’m usually not at all a fear-driven person, I was nervous. It’s hard to not be able to shout it off the rooftops, to tell everyone you know, and to really “own” the pregnancy. I understand that it’s wise to keep it to yourself in the beginning, not only because of the risk of miscarriage but also because it’s a private thing, something special between just Dennis and I.
I know the moment we announce we are going to drown in unsolicited advice, and knowing the internet, probably some judgment, too. I’ve enjoyed our little secret but at 10 weeks I was starting to get antsy to tell the world. Finally the big day of the sonogram had arrived! We’d finally get to hear the baby’s heartbeat!
We arrived at the gynecologist’s office at 11:45 am, 15-minutes before our appointment. We’d heard that sometimes you’d have to wait a long time to get to your appointment so I brought a book. There are very few gynos on the island, and apparently this guy does the emergency deliveries and surgeries at the hospital, so if something came up he’d leave and you could be left in the waiting room for hours. Crazy that there is only one person for this stuff! After waiting for 2.5 hours (!!) we started getting a little irritated and Dennis went to ask at the reception how long it would be. She said “Oh, you probably wont get in at all today. Your midwife never sent along the papers you need for your appointment”. W H A T !? And you let us sit here for two and a half hours without bothering to tell us? So. Not. Cool. We called the midwife, who insisted they had given us a paper we both know we never received. “Fine, we’ll fax it over.” We wait another hour and go check at the reception again. Fax never arrived! What the hell. We call the midwife again and the receptionist causally says, “The midwife left the office and probably wont be back so she can’t sign the papers for you”. Again – why not pick up the phone and let us know???? I was getting hungry, tired, and increasingly pissed off at this receptionist who was showing us so much attitude and bad vibes I’ve never seen anything like it.
The gynecologists receptionist offered a solution – if our midwife (more to be ex-midwife by now…) could fax the paper to another midwife, that midwife could sign it, fax it to us, and we would be good to go. An hour later our original midwife’s receptionist calls me and with a voice dripping of sarcasm says, “So, the paper that I 100% gave you in June, that I now sent over again, did you finally receive it?”. She literally called me just to be an asshole. I almost lost my temper. Even IF she had given us this paper, which we know for sure she didn’t, why have such a horrible attitude? Why be a total bitch? I decided then and there, there is no way we are giving birth with these people present in our lives. Nah-ah. It was horrible.
I asked around and got a number for another midwife that’s supposed to be much better – a man, actually! What do you call a midwife that’s a man? Midhusband? ☺ Anywho. It took us 5 hours – literally – before we got to our sonogram appointment and by now we were both so tired and agitated we’d almost forgotten the reason we were there. I’d twice proclaimed “Screw this island – I hate this island – we are moving to Sweden to have this baby!” already…
But the moment we heard the heartbeat.. everything else disappeared.
A heartbeat! So determined, so strong. So fast! Inside of me!
I started crying and Dennis teared up, too. Seeing her (I’m saying her because I have a feeling it’s a girl, but we don’t know) bounce around, jumping, twisting, kicking her little legs… She was moving all around! It was beyond magical. All the fears I’d had about the pregnancy just melted away. This was real. She’s in there. A baby. A real baby! With fingers and toes! That moves! A little dancing baby. And check this magic out – because of some emergency the main gyno was held up, so the sonogram guy spent a whole 45 minutes with us and the baby! Answering all of our questions, sharing his experiences delivering in the hospital in Aruba vs in Holland where he’d just moved from, and letting us spend as much time as we wanted with our little dancing poppyseed (who’s now as big as a fig!).
And we got another surprise: I’m 11 weeks! Not 10! My due date got moved up a whole week. We had the sonogram on 10 weeks sharp, but we were actually 11. Felt pretty cool! Only one week until we are “safe” to tell the world. MAGIC!!!