Revelations

 

There are some things, apparently, that I would rather not know. Or that make me question the level of curiosity that I actually have. Jaime and I talked about whether we would get a Congenital Anomaly Scan for our child. A Congenital Anomaly Scan, as the name suggests, is a detailed ultrasound, usually done late second trimester, that checks for any abnormalities in your baby and whether it is growing as it should. Sort of like your baby’s first ever Report Card.

The phrase alone sounded like a terrifying prospect. Anomaly. Aberration. Abnormality. Would we want to know if our child had a defect, some sort of flaw in her genetic makeup? What would we do if we were told that yes, Mr. and Mrs. Martinez, there is something… not quite right with your child. Would we be less joyful, less brave, less thankful?

The answer was, no. If the child had an anomaly in his grand design, then so be it. It is still his own design, and it will be no less grand. This was a child, after all. This was our child, and we would love our child, with all the courage, joy, and thanksgiving our hearts can muster. Whether or not he had a hole in his heart, or had six fingers in his right hand instead of five.

And so we trooped to the Women’s Health Center at St. Luke’s Medical Center, Quezon City, for the Congenital Anomaly Scan. Jaime sat at the waiting area, and I was left alone at the screening room. At times the OB sonologist would say such charming things as “Now let’s count the fingers. One..two…three…four…teka di ko makita yung panglima,” triggering a mild myocardial infarction. “Nandyan lang yan!” I would feel like yelling. “Hanapin mo doc!”

“Ahhhh there you go. Nakatakip lang pala. Five fingers on the left! Tingnan natin yung sa right…”

And the whole fun process would start again.

“This is the eye. I have to see a white mass there or..”

“Or…? Or?!?!”

“Or it means your baby may have a cataract.”

“A cataract? As in parang sa mga matatanda?

“Yes.”

“…”

The baby seemed to enjoy this process because it shifted its position and we were forced to wait until it decided to move again and torment mommy no longer. Thankfully, it turned out that my baby’s eyes do not resemble that of his great grandfather’s. No cataract. Cue tremendous sigh of relief.

She then moved on to the heart (4 chambers, check! regular heart rate, check!) brain, lungs, spinal cord, etc. I must say, this OB sonologist was very thorough, and explained everything every step of the way. I was amazed at how detailed these scans are. I could see my baby’s kidneys! I actually know more about this 23 week old fetus than I do about my own body.

To be fair, the tension was more a reflection of my own apprehensions and anxieties rather than the OB sonologist’s relatively candid manner. Every time the OB sonologist paused, or checked her “book” (which presumably tells you the normal-not normal range), or every time she would mutter even the slightest, most imperceptible “hmmmm…” I would silently pray, bargain, and make all sorts of promises to the Almighty. “Lord, please make my baby healthy and I swear I will never bitch about anything in my life ever again!”

Thankfully the OB sonologist gave my baby a clean bill of health. Everything is where they should be, and measures how they ought to measure, and looks how they ought to look. Thank you lord! I shall strive, with all my heart, to keep my promise!

It amuses me when people say kamukha ko or kamukha ni Jaime. All I see is a melting baby! Haha. Hello there!

It amuses me when people say kamukha ko or kamukha ni Jaime. All I see is a melting baby! Haha. Hello there!

He or she?

When it came time to reveal the gender, Jaime was called to the room. The OB sonologist showed us our baby and there and then, I saw our future flash before my eyes.

I shall keep the gender a secret for now, as my darling mother, the excited grandmother-to-be, wants us to throw a gender reveal party come Christmas time. I was puzzled. What IS a gender reveal party? Apparently it’s literally what the name says – it is a party where you reveal the gender. My mom showed me some pegs. Who cooks up these things? But even I had to admit they were cute. The piece de resistance in most parties is this huge box filled with pink balloons if it’s a girl, and blue balloons if it’s a boy. After everyone has voted, the parents open the box and tadaaaa! Out come the balloons!

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We plan to do it during the Christmas party with all the relatives from my mom’s side. I doubt a secret of this magnitude will even last until December, but we’ll see.

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