I just found out today that my friend in England, who is about the same age as I am, went with the NT-scan (which is standard for all British moms at 12-weeks) and blood test, and then had CVS. Her blood test had indicated a 1 in 6 chance of Down’s Syndrome. The CVS was uncomfortable, and the results showed that everything was fine.
The tone of her email led me to think that perhaps doctors are more comfortable with CVS in England. My impression, garnered mainly from what I’ve read, is that CVS is still more dangerous than amniocentesis in terms of miscarriage risk, and also that amnio gives a more complete picture, tests more things, than CVS.
Of course, CVS is done earlier, which makes it the better choice if there’s a problem that might lead to a decision to terminate the pregnancy.
I hate that phrase. Terminate the pregnancy.
I hated it the whole time we were worried about whether or not I, and the baby, had a current toxoplasmosis infection. I hate the idea of it now, as I face my own big prenatal test, and whatever results that might bring.
My hairdresser, who gave birth last year, and had the same OB-Gyn, went for the amnio, on the same logic as me — that it was more comprehensive and safer than CVS. She says to not worry. The people at the lab are very skilled. The recovery is not that bad.
Our friends who are Catholic skipped the test entirely; as they knew their decision to have the baby would not change, no matter what the results.
Of course, there is also the argument that says knowing the results can help you better prepare, if there is something that needs preparing for.
My friend Susan, who is a doula, spoke with some venom about the stress of the two-week period between taking the test, and getting the results, because she says it hampers the mother from bonding with the baby.
That’s a whole other can of worms, the bonding. But I do feel like just this period of waiting to TAKE the test, there’s a part of me that can’t quite relax and love this pregnancy. Not until I get past this hurdle.
The fact is, at 37 (almost 38) I’m officially a woman of “Advanced Maternal Age,” meaning 35-or-older at the time of giving birth. (I don’t know how I would be dealing with these testing questions if I were doing this ten years ago.)
And ultimately, I’m a worrier. So it’s better if I just know. And my husband wants to know as much as can be known. And I don’t blame him — even as I fantasize about that other pregnancy I’m having; the one where I run off into the woods with a bag of trail mix and a soft blanket and come back nine months later with a healthy happy baby.
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