Two very reassuring signs that all is well with this pregnancy. The spotting that freaked me out was very insignificant, and by the time I made it to the OB’s office yesterday, I felt guilty for even being there. I felt like I should have the Niagara Falls of blood gushing down my legs to justify the intensity of terror that I was feeling. One of the very good things that came out of my visit though was that I LOVE my OB’s office. The doctor I met with was BEYOND helpful and reassuring, and even went out of his way to convince me that I did the right thing by coming in (although I know deep down I was no different to him than the millions of other paranoid freak first time pregnant women he’s dealt with).
My husband came along, and even though I wanted to strangle him for telling me to just “calm down”, I knew he was just as scared as I was. Not only did he do a remarkable job maintaining his calm demeanor as another man shoved foreign objects up my vagina in front of him, but he also managed to hold back the majority of his OCD and germaphobe fueled comments and questions. He admitted to me at lunch after the appointment that he was really concerned that the speculum hadn’t been cleaned properly. He asked if I could feel if it was dirty, and confessed that he was “this close” to asking the doctor if he had sterilized that since the last patient! And I assure you this was a visibly reputable establishment. I didn’t go meet up with some hillbilly doctor in the back of his Chevy El Camino.
The paranoia worked in our favor this time. We got to see our first glimpse of the teensy, tiny, itty- bitty life growing inside of me. We couldn’t see a heartbeat yet, but the doctor assured us that everything was looking just right for how far along I am. And now I’m going to do that thing that all new soon to be mothers do that the rest of the never been pregnant world can’t understand, nor is interested in. I’m going to show you my ultrasound picture….and you most likely will cock your head to the side, try for half a second to figure out where the hell the baby is, and move on…that’s okay. I want to show it anyway.
Awwww!!! Okay, now that that is out of my system ( at least for a few more weeks) I will end this entry by saying that it’s crazy how much you WANT to feel sick when you are pregnant. Not that I enjoy it. I personally despise feeling like I need to puke all the time, and that I may pass out at any moment from the insane dizzy spells I’ve been having lately, but it tells me that there indeed is some foreign body growing in me that is so healthy that even at the size of an apple seed it has the power to make me see stars when I stand up too quickly and to make me dry heave at the mere thought of certain smells.
My final sign of reassurance at my appointment came as we were checking out. The receptionist had some of those Rocher chocolates on her counter for the patients, and I thought I should try to eat one since I was feeling so dizzy. As soon as I bit into it, I discretely spit it right back out. NO amount of hunger or dizziness could have made that chocolate taste good to me. Now that, my friends, is all the evidence in the world that I need to let me know someone else has taken over my body – the fact that I would much rather have a fresh tomato or pickled okra over a whole box of chocolates.
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