1 out of 55

Navigating the waters of pregnancy has seemed offer two shores towards which I can simultaneously aim. Both appear to have firm ground to stand on and award a healthy pregnancy and birth upon arrival. One seems to have a scattering of rocky outcroppings fixed and treacherous, with a narrow slip you must skillfully maneuver through to arrive. At first appearance it all seems perfect. It seems beautiful, challenging yet full of promise. But these rocks that appear to be guiding me into this shore are, in fact, deflecting my forward motion, necessitating sharp turns of decision making, other quick, nerve racking adjustments and stress and much anxiety and inevitable tears. Each time I embark toward this shore I feel overwhelmed and out of control. My trust in my own deeper knowing is lost and I feel that I don't have the tools to navigate such ferocious waters. I am alone on a rudderless raft heading straight for the doom and gloom of destiny, clinging to a glimmer of hope that all in the end will be just fine!

The other shore is broad with the gradual rise of land from the waters. The landing seems more about following the natural current than any moves on my part. I feel secure in my abilities here, able to see my destination but also able to watch each wave that passes and carries me forward. I understand the journey is not without its own risk but the risks do not seem to line up one after another or one as a result of the other. It feels that my vessel is fully equipped and I am gaining effortlessly, mind and body together on this trip. Hope and trust are the main guiding forces here not charged with the roll of the buoy.

Today I received the results of my second trimester, sequential screening. I was told I have an abnormal result, meaning there's an increased risk greater than 1 in 270 that the baby will have Down syndrome. I am at a probability rate of 1 in 55. And, of course, now the inevitable "what next" decision. What next? There's the repeatedly mentioned amniocentesis which can give a 99% accurate genetic blueprint of the baby or there's waiting until the next ultrasound which could give visual markers that might offer a more definitive indication if there's need for alarm. Is there really need for alarm?!

Once again I feel the information emanating from this shore is scary, devil in the details oriented and suspect. I breathe less deep. I have no idea what to do. I am of the 5% of women who received an abnormal result and I can look forward to the fact that 5% of the results are false positives and that actually only 4% of those 5% who have abnormal results delivery Downs babies. I'm not good enough at fractions to figure out what 4% of 5% is. 1 in 55. Less than a 2% chance. There's a 98% chance this baby is perfect. As Andrew said, those aren't odds you bet against.

But there's no way to know for certain unless I want to do what I consider a risky, invasive procedure. I've been reading a lot on amniocentesis and many reports indicate a 1 in 47 chance of a procedure induced miscarriage. What!? I feel this is completely unreasonable. If taking one's temperature resulted in 2 out of every 100 people dying we would reconsider this as a safe option. The problem is many miscarriages aren't linked to the amniocentesis. It simply seems to be a spontaneous miscarriage. But what troubles me about this procedure is the nature of it. It is invasive. I am already providing a safe, supportive and protective environment for this small being. I couldn't imagine breaking that trust, that security and sense of ease. When this environment is disrupted a perfectly healthy baby could suddenly potentially be lost.

Ugh, where is the clarity? the confidence? Where's the anchor for these swirling thoughts, fears, and tensions?

What to do next?
My body and mind both say a la cama! Off to bed! These thoughts will still be here tomorrow! This question still patiently waiting my answer.