18 week scan

My Mum came down over the weekend. It was lovely to see her and I really wanted to blog about how we had massages together, met this strange woman who insisted on telling us about her upcoming wedding/ crap toenails as developed through years of ballet/ battle with cervical cancer/ up coming operations/ 21 year old goth daughter, that Mum thinks the cat is a girl despite my certainty that the balls of fur hanging off the back are in fact furry balls and that Mum has offered to come down for up to three months after Trogdor appears this side of the womb. Surely, provided nothing horrible happens, I can figure out some form of parenting skills in three months.
But... all I can think about is the 18 week scan.
We will be finding out the gender and I will reveal it here mainly because I need a pronoun. If you do not want to know don't read this blog after Wednesday. Or talk to me. Or to Spidermonkey.

Most women will have a scan between 18 to 20 weeks, because at this time the fetus is large enough to be easily seen and so detailed assessment of many structures can be made.

For most women this scan will reassure them that their baby appears normal.

The scan can only assess the anatomy or structure of the baby, but in this way many of the common congenital abnormalities may be detected. In most fetuses spina bifida, cleft lip (hare lip), severe dwarfism, and major heart defects can be excluded. For a very small number of women the scan will identify a major fetal abnormality. However, even with the best ultrasound equipment not all abnormalities can be seen. In particular, developmental delays such as intellectual delay, cerebral palsy or autism cannot be detected.

It's routine. It's safe. And the majority of women will leave the doctor's office having been told their baby is perfectly fine.
And others don't.
But because it is routine and the risks of something being wrong are small there's no expectation that women (and when I say women I don't mean women, I mean me) will approach this test fearfully.
There's the fear of a vague something being wrong and then the much larger fear that we'll be told Trogdor has left us. I won't be attempting to deal with the latter fear in this post because, well, what can I say?*
And remarkably, it turns out that patting a pregnant woman on the arm while saying "it'll be fine" is not all that fucking helpful. You think it will be fine, I think it will be fine, every bloody person on every pregnancy board out there thinks it will be fine. But if every-one is so convinced that it will be fine, can some-one tell me why I'm having this test?
At least the people who say "there's no point worrying over something you can't do anything about" have honesty on their side - if not a great deal of compassion.
I told Spidermonkey I was nervous about having the u/s and he said exactly the right thing - possibly the only thing - "it's normal to feel like that." It's good to hear something that isn't based on what we'd all like to believe or some ridiculous advise like telling a mother not to worry about her child's health.
We can't know that everything is fine - no matter what the test says. And if the test comes back showing something abnormal then we can't know that every-thing won't work out for the best in the end.
The truth is that no test can reveal what a parent really wants to know. There isn't a scan that will tell you if your child will be happy.
Lots of people who have 'abnormalities' lead lives of fulfillment and purpose while lots of people who have every advantage are miserable bastards. Most people feature some-where in the middle no matter what their 18 week scan may have revealed. Of course, I'd sign up for an 18 week 'miserable bastard' test. Just 'cos.
If I might make some attempt to summarize this rambling mess of a post - I think that, despite my previous comments, it'll be fine and even if it's not fine then I think that in the long run it'll be fine and if it's not fine in the long run it won't be because of any thing we find out during an ultrasound.
Any questions?
Good.

* I can feel Trogers as I type this, twisting and turning and doing little backflips in secret. Despite this, I have a deep fear that it's my imagination, that I'm only pretending I'm pregnant.