Wednesday, October 16, 2013

thirty week surprise, 30 weeks, 5 days


Things were going too smoothly. Apparently, in all my heartburn-low-back-pain-can-hardly-put-on-my-shoes-and-I-will-never-sleep-again glory, I was just a little too comfortable. Smug, even. Enter, stage left: THE UNIVERSE.

On Friday, ladies and gentleman[1], there was blood. Of course, if we put on our remembering caps, we may recall that this pregnancy began with blood – like of the you’re-so-not-pregnant! variety. The kind where you may or may not wind up hunched over the kitchen table, ugly crying[2] into your insert-bowl-of-fattening-comfort-food-here while your partner tries to remain stoic in the face of GREAT UNCERTAINTY AND TERROR. The kind that leaves you doubting even the canned implantation bleeding speech of the fertility clinic nurse[3] and the wisdom of the goons sages on Yahoo! Answers. Because, dammit, it just feels like your period.

Of course, we all now know that I have literally zero insight into my own body because, bam: pregnant with human baby.

And so on Friday, when, at 30 weeks on the dot, there was blood, well, I was thrown. But this time it was not so much for my panic – though there was that – but more for C’s reaction. For C’s UTTER TERROR. For the wavering in his voice and the you-are-going-to-the-doctor-right-now-and-I-am-cancelling-all-my-afternoon-appointments-immediately defiantness. Of course, by then the bleeding had stopped and I had somehow managed to white-knuckle my way through coast through five solid hours of work. But the doctor agreed – I should come in. Just to, you know, make sure.

The short version of the story is that following my first speculum exam in FOREVER AND EVER, AMEN[4], I was pronounced completely fine. We even played a fun game where the nurse and C squeezed the baby’s foot and we watched his heart rate soar[5] and the nurse complimented me on the non-swollen appearance of my ankles[6].

Back at home, both relieved, I wanted to know why C was so worried – what was the thing he thought was happening. And then, just like that, out it came: BEDREST. That’s it. That’s what rendered him panicked and shaky. Sure, there was also, earlylaborplacentapreviacatastrophecatastrophecatastrophe. But really, it was just one thing, one thing that he knew, after 11 years of being together, would really screw with me: BEDREST.

Because here’s the thing, dear interwebs. If I’m not active, If I’m sitting too long, if I don’t exercise, if can’t get outside, if I’m stuck in one place for more than seven minutes: I slowly begin to, how do I say this? Lose my ever-loving shit[7]. And C, dear, sweet C, he knows that about me.

(Okay, let’s face it. C knew that his life would be a WAKING NIGHTMARE if I were suddenly confined to the couch for the next ten weeks. He was looking out for his own wellbeing. And, you know, mine and the baby’s. Maybe.)

This is me. On bedrest. 
Because this is what turns up when you Google Image search “going crazy on bedrest”. In stark contrast, Google Image searching “going crazy on bed rest” reveals a picture of Hulk Hogan with an orange boa. Because, OBVIOUSLY. I could not make this stuff up if I tried, you guys.

P.S. Yesterday I bent over to put on my shoes and <wait for it> I threw up. Sure, it was early in the morning, a time when I usually have a touch of the nausea. And yes, there is less and less room for my vital organs, food and GIANT BABY with each passing minute. But if I’m not mistaken, I bent over and, exactly one second later, the pressure on my stomach was such that there was, actually, quite literally, no more room. How is this a thing? This was totally not mentioned in any of the pregnancy books, you guys.


[1] I’m assuming there’s only one of you, tops.
[2] Thank you Huffington Post for this Kim-Kardashian-ugly-crying-montage profound piece of hard-hitting journalism.
[3] Lesson learned: never, ever doubt her.
[4] Deep insight: I prefer to keep my pants on.
[5] It’s amazing what passes for “fun” by week 30. I’m guessing my standards will only be lowered further for the next 18 years. Noted.
[6] I’m blushing. Now if only I could still see my ankles.
[7] See also when Phil Dunphy explains that Claire is “like a border collie” and needs to get out for a run every day. Yes. That. (And no, this is not some kind of backdoor brag – more an indication that I am probably in need of heavy sedation/years of therapy.)

8 comments:

  1. Skeletor as an image of bedrest. I love that. But mostly, I'm so relieved that the bleeding was nothing and you don't have to pull a Skeletor yourself...also, apparently, for C's sake!

    I CAN'T WAIT to get to the point where I'm throwing up tying my shoes because of the giant baby elbowing out my organs. I nearly threw up the other morning while brushing my teeth. I did a little happy dance right there in the bathroom :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  3. LMAO, Okay, I am sure the bleeding episode was scary, but your recount of it is awesome. So glad everything is fine, and so sorry about the puking. Ew.

    Re: bedrest. Hopefully it's something that is never in your future! I'd go stir crazy too. Have you rest the recent research about it not actually being effective, but docs still prescribing it anyway just so moms feel like they're "doing something?"

    http://www.scienceandsensibility.org/?tag=bed-rest-during-pregnancy

    ReplyDelete
  4. So sorry to hear about the bleeding, but it sounds like it was nothing too scary (sort of like my experience). I didn't get a dr to squeeze my baby's foot- did that seriously happen? Because that's sort of crazy.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I am sorry, but I laughed about the throw up story! I guess there was just literally no more room!? it is the stuff of comedies!!! glad that the bleeding was no big deal and you do not have to have any evil bedrest!

    ReplyDelete
  6. Ugh, bedrest is definitely up there on my worst-thing-ever list. I am hoping that you (and I) can make it through without it!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Blood is so scary!!! I'm glad to hear everything is fine. The squeezing-baby's-foot game sounds amazing. I can't wait to try that.
    I'm hoping everything goes smoothly from here on out!

    ReplyDelete
  8. Sorry I'm late commenting here. I read this post and then somehow forgot to comment? Oops. Can I ask if they diagnosed the cause of the bleeding? If you read my last few posts you'll see I had some bleeding on Friday and ended up in Labor and Delivery. It was scary and no one can tell me what caused it. All they do is try to scare me about "possible causes." Sigh. More and more I think some women just bleed. That's it. No big deal. (I wish I really believed that 100%).

    ReplyDelete