I swear, I was laying in bed last night during my routine insomnia hour (3:45-4:45am for anyone who wants to know) and I thought of the most insightful, witty post. The problem with those kind of ideas is that as soon as you go back to sleep you forget them. So sorry, I had something good but now all you get is this (and it's really long and might have a bit of TMI in there):
It all started with some yummy chili on Thursday evening. Not a joke; it was great.
I started getting cramps about a half an hour after dinner, which I immediately blamed on the above yummy chili. Who wouldn't? Well, the cramps didn't go away. In fact, they lasted ALL night long. They varied in severity; some only a mere annoyance and a few that took my breath away. I wasn't having any other symptoms (bleeding, fever, etc.) so I decided to tough it out till morning and recheck my status.
At this point it's important to note that this "tough it out" personality trait scares my mother. She always says that whenever I actually get to the point where I claim a sickness I must be close to death because I always downplay it or decide to 'tough it out.' I like to think that I'm just not a whiner. I will be the lady that has her baby in the car on the way to the airport because I convince myself that all these labor symptoms aren't 'too bad yet' while I'm waiting at home. Sorry Dana and whatever poor soul happens to be running the gate that day at Ft. Bragg.
Also, another tidbit from Momma: She always said you don't get caught in the ER without clean underwear on so I sure enough took a shower and put the clean underwear on before I went to bed that night, just in case! Momma would be proud!
Back to the story:
When I wake up Friday morning I'm feeling Ok as I lay in bed. Then when I get up and start moving around the pains come back. Let me take a moment to describe the pains. They felt very low in my abdomen, about where I assume my bladder is these days (but who really knows what poor organ is getting squished where?). And they really felt like that crampy pain you get when you hold your pee too long and your bladder starts to painfully scream that you need a bathroom ASAP or a change of clothes. So I'm assuming I have a bladder infection. That doesn't sound too much of stretch does it? I wasn't really worried about the baby because there were not other symptoms but I didn't want to be one of those people that waits too long and has a crisis (remember, it's in my nature). I would hate to be that woman that people whisper about because her dumb self sat around with screaming bad symptoms and did nothing.
So I decide to be responsible and call the handy advice nurse. I give her my story. I swear she didn't listen to any of it because she asked me a ton of questions that I'd already answered through my explanation but whatever. She makes an attempt to get me in to see my regular doctor. No luck. Then she so politely and cautiously tells the pregnant lady who is cramping to go to the ER.
My response: "The ER? That place where you wait for 7 hours surrounded by people with the bubonic plauge?"
Advice nurse: "Uh...yes. But tell them you're pregnant and cramping and you will get pushed right through triage. No plague necessary."
Great. Just great.
In all seriousness (is that even a word?) my first thought after I hung up the phone was 'thank goodness I remembered to change my underwear.' Thanks Momma!
I send all the appropriate texts and calls to family to let them know where I was and head off to the ER *insert ominous music here*
I get through triage in about half an hour, get through registration in about half an hour. Cramps aren't so bad at this point but still there. They send me back to the room with all the beds and curtains to wait on the doctor.
And in walks Dr. McHottie. I am not joking and these are not my preggo hormones talking. He looked like something off of TV.
Beth's internal dialogue at this moment: "Please do not let this be the man that will eventually deliver my child because all I will be able to do is giggle and blush."
So McHottie asks me to describe the problem, and for the 97th time that day I do. Then he asks me questions to clarify the problem. This is where the TMI comes in. You might want to skip past.They questions were as follows...
McHottie: Any vaginal discharge?
Me: Other than that pregnancy 'snail trail' stuff?
McHottie: Uhh...right. So nothing out of the ordinary? Have you been finding yourself having to urinate more often?
Me: *raises one eyebrow* I'm pregnant. I pee about every 20 minutes.
McHottie: Uhh...right. When was your last period?
Me: I cannot remember that far back. Take May 16 and count backwards 40 weeks. It was about that time.
McHottie: So I think we'll just get a urine sample and see if we find anything abnormal.
Even though he asked silly questions, he made up for it in the end because he offered to pull in the bedside ultrasound machine and let me look at the baby for a minute. I could clearly see the baby's head, the heart, it's spine, and an arm waving around. McHottie said he could see legs, but that just looked like static to me. He couldn't tell gender :( We both agreed that it looked like the sweetest little alien around.
My urine came back negative so no bladder infection. End result is that baby didn't seem to be in distress and my cramps were not so painful, just more inconvenient at this point. So my diagnosis is inconclusive. I kinda like that. Makes me feel mysterious. Ticking time bomb of inconclusiveness.
But anyways, no cramps this morning. Yay!
In conclusion I have a few people I'd like to thank:
1. McHottie for letting me view my sweet little alien for the first time.
2. Momma for always reminding me to not get caught without clean underwear on
3. My inconclusive diagnosis which makes this every expanding girl feel mysterious