Final ultrasound before transfer

This time I took the day off. The full bladder thing and all.

Plus, there was a time constraint.

I needed to get my results to the clinic in the Czech Republic before the end of the day, because it was Thursday in Canada, Friday in Olomouc, and I was scheduled to fly out of the country on Sunday. The results of this scan would determine if and when I was to start the progesterone.

I had to have a lining of at least 7mm or more. If I did not…well, I didn’t want to think about it. I was so close.

The full bladder…

My appointment was at 9:30am. The instructions: Drink 1 litre of water between 7:45 and 8:45am so that my bladder was full for 9:30am.

Knowing how full one litre makes me I did not start drinking until 8am, and then I did slightly less than a litre.

I arrived at the hospital, as requested, at 9:00am to check-in.

There were two people waiting and I hoped they were not also waiting for an ultrasound. The tiny waiting room is shared with x-ray.

As 9:30am approached, my appointment time, I was feeling uncomfortably full, and ready to get this over and done with.

The girl in the waiting area was called… for x-ray. Yay. Maybe I would be the only one for an ultrasound, after all the other person waiting was a rather large man.

(and a mouth breather, who was drinking coffee, not a great combo in close quarters)

I felt pretty sure I was up next.

One of the nursing staff asked me if I was doing okay?

“I’m uncomfortable, but my appointment is now so I think I’ll make it.”

He smiled sympathetically, and suggested I could empty my bladder a little if need be.

“What is a little?” I asked.

He shrugged and said “I don’t know, use your own discretion.”

Um… not helpful buddy.

So as much as I wanted to go, I didn’t just in case I peed too much and they had to cancel my scan. This was time sensitive after all.

So I waited.

And waited.

I watched the clock.




10:00am – the technician who did my last scan walked toward the waiting area, “Oh thank GOD!” I thought then… she called the man!!!

What?! He doesn’t have a full freakin’ bladder, how does he get in before me? I’m about to burst!

Now, quite honestly, I realise he had an appointment too and was having a scan for something important, but he was not in physical discomfort and that should always take precedence…shouldn’t it?

I mean if you go to Emergency after hours to see a doctor and you are not in physical discomfort they see the immediate needs people first.

This should be the same with an ultrasound…shouldn’t it?

I believe it should.

He walked off with the technician and I heard her respond to his question of how long it would take with, “about 20 minutes.”


I would not last that long. It was already after 10am and my bladder was ready for my appointment time of 9:30am.

I was near tears, in such discomfort, desperate to pee, but needing the results more, it was my last and only chance to get these results to the clinic before I flew out of the country.

Another nurse went by, I grabbed her arm, “Please,” I said, desperation clear in my voice, “how much longer.”

She looked at me with kindness, “let me check.”

I counted the seconds for her return, 129 in total.

“Just a few more minutes,” she said.

It was now 10:15am and silent tears streamed down my face.

“Buck up Ali,” I told myself, “this is nothing compared to the pain of childbirth, get used to it.”

It worked, and for a few more minutes I was able to sit comfortably without thinking about the pain and pressure.

The technician called my name. A different woman to the last time.

“Oh, thank goodness!” I said aloud, “I am about to burst!”

She didn’t smile, in fact, after spending the next 40 odd minutes with her I’m not certain she is capable of smiling.

We had to walk a few corridors to the room. I walked hunched over and every step sent shock-waves through my urethra and into my bladder. I groaned from the discomfort a few times as I walked.

She looked at me unsmiling, unsympathetic.

We got to the room and she said “I’ll let you get changed and I’ll be back.”

“NO!” I all but yelled, already stripping off my shoes and pants, “I’m ready now, I can’t wait any longer, please.”

Her grimace gave nothing away, but she turned her back as I hopped on the table.

Laying flat was painful and I brought my knees up.

“Legs down” she said.

I braced myself for the cold gel, but it was warm – thank goodness.

Then she started the ultrasound, pressing on my bladder. I breathed in short quick bursts.

Within minutes of starting, she said, “Okay, go relieve some pressure.”

It was almost like a smile and I wanted to hug her and cry all at once.

“How much?” I asked.

She gave me a cup, a big cup, and told me to almost fill it.

I grabbed it and ran off with the sheet around my waist.

It was the most satisfying feeling relieving that pressure.

When I returned to her my bladder was not completely empty, but I was finally comfortable.

We continued the ultrasound, and I breathed normally again.

For 10 minutes or so she took ultrasound photos, while I tried to make small talk.

I am terrible at small talk under the best of circumstances, this situation was so awkward I eventually fell into an uncomfortable silence as the machine whirred and clicked and beeped beside me.

Then she asked me to empty my bladder completely for the internal exam.

While I am not a fan of this part of the process, I much prefer it to the full bladder scenario.

I peed again, feeling joy at the emptiness.

Then headed back to the room.

I was glad I’d had the first scan with the other technician weeks ago because now I knew the drill. They take this enormous wand looking thing that is covered in a condom of sorts and lathered with lube, and then ask you to guide it inside of yourself, then they take hold of it and away they go.

When I handed over the control to her, I didn’t know what to do with myself.

The last time, the woman was friendly and chatty, she had filled the awkwardness with easy conversation, and so this part had gone by without much thought.

This time, the woman was not at all friendly or chatty. The room was deadly silent but for the sound of the machinery. The atmosphere was uncomfortable to say the least.

Lying on my back with someone moving about in my vagina made me think of the old saying “Lie back and think of England.”

I’m not sure where that saying originates (England I assume), or I should say why it originated. But I get the impression of young women being taken against their permission before there was such a thing as rape.

Great line of thought… right?

I’m lying there staring at the ceiling tiles in a darkened room as something moves about in my vagina thinking of women being taken against their will.

Change thinking! I willed myself to think of something else. I stared at the painting on the wall of a single boat docked in a harbour. I imagined being on the boat, imagined adventures at sea, imagined watching a sunset from the deck. 10 minutes passed.

Then she said, “all done” and started to pull the thing out… then she said, “oh, no, wait…” and pushed it back in rather forcefully. I think because she was embarrassed that she had stopped before getting everything needed. Or maybe embarrassed to have spoken?

Whatever caused the out and in again move focussed my attention on what she was doing rather than being on the boat or thoughts of England, and it turned my line of thinking in a very different direction.

My brain went something like…

“Ooh, well that was an interesting sensation wasn’t it, oh, and that one is interesting too. That’s not altogether bad…oooh my, there’s a spot that hasn’t been touched for a while…”

That’s right, my thinking turned to how it had been a while since anything was inside of me like this. And how the sensations were not altogether unpleasant.

Then I caught myself… Holy Hell!

I almost burst out laughing at the weirdness I felt, I wanted to clamp my knees together and make her stop immediately.

Finally, she was done and removed the wand. She left the room while I got dressed. Without looking back, I got the heck out of there.

When I made it to the car I laughed for the sheer madness of the way the brain processes things.

Sensation is sensation I suppose; the body is merely a vessel after all.

Still, I felt oddly dirty like I could use a shower to wash away the experience.

Putting it from my mind, I headed home. I had a few hours until my next doctor appointment so went home and did my pre-pack laundry and some much-needed cleaning/tidying of the apartment for the person who would be cat-sitting in my absence.

Next post, the results are in, and the “stand-up comedian” doctor!

Warm smiles and Love,

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3 thoughts on “Final ultrasound before transfer

  1. I LOVE your writing style…I laughed with you, I panicked with you…I could really visualize the whole experience. I am really rooting for you. I think I can just relate so well to your desire to have a baby. I just stare endlessly at every baby I see and I can’t wait for the time when I can have one too. The timing is off for me now but it’s very much on my mind. In the meanwhile, all I can do is walk alongside people like you and keep my fingers crossed for you. The whole process is pretty nerve racking but I guess it doesn’t matter if in the end you end up with a healthy baby to call your own. I look forward to reading more…definitely a fan 🙂

    • Thank you so much Alicia <3 I am humbled to read that you are enjoying the site. Thank you. I welcome you walking alongside as I venture down this path, and look forward to your update when you are ready to walk this path too! 🙂 I understand the feeling of staring at babies too... goodness, in the Czech Republic especially I kept wondering if my child would resemble any of the babies I saw...

  2. Pingback: A “go” for transfer – Ali Jayne .com

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