Yesterday I was drifting off for my daily, much needed afternoon nap when I caught myself thinking I might have felt the baby. Then I had a hearty laugh and reminded myself I’m only 12 weeks, and no, that was not the baby, more like it was breakfast working it’s way through my digestive track.
I mean, it TOTALLY *felt* like a baby. It really did. It felt like what I used to feel when I’d reach down and rub my tummy while pregnant with Kendall, thinking it was my sweet, active boy. Knowing now what I didn’t know then, though, I know that probably half the time I was oohing and aahing and rubbing and patting, it was just my intestines… cute, maybe? no?… but not a baby. I know this because of the Phantom Baby Kick Phenomenon that occurs long after all inhabitants have exited your uterus.
But, I have to admit, it was fun to get a little carried away, to start thinking about when I really might feel the baby. I fell asleep quite content and happy. I woke up, having to pee, of course, only to have Mother Nature be all “Get ready for an emotional roller coaster, beyotch.” I was spotting/bleeding. Bright pink/reddish. It was more than I’ve spotted this whole pregnancy. I know, I know, spotting is common. Most of the time it’s nothing. I spotted so much with Kendall that really this shouldn’t have alarmed me, except I just haven’t spotted much with this pregnancy, and I was really liking that sense of security that came with it. I wasn’t bracing myself for what I saw on the toilet paper yesterday. Not like I used to with Kendall. Every time I went to the bathroom last pregnancy, I was like, “No whammies, no whammies,” before I’d wipe. This just came out of nowhere.
So we moved my 12 week appointment, set for early next week, up to today. I did my best not to freak out all morning, although my best sucked. Fact- I will ALWAYS be a bitch the morning of any prenatal appointment. Fact- I will try to pick fights with my husband.
So we sat in the waiting room for what seemed like a FREAKING ETERNITY, and my phone rang. It was Kendall’s Mother’s Day Out Program. I held my breath. “Mrs. Krause? Kendall had an accident. We want to let you know what’s going on and you can choose to come get him if you’d like.” Shit.
The tone of her voice made me envision broken bones and stitches. The office is 3o minutes from the church he’s at. I braced myself.
“Kendall was running in the gym and he fell and hit his head. He has a pretty big bump, but we put ice on it and we’ve monitored it. We’ve checked his pupils and we’ve kept and eye on him for nausea and sleepiness.”
“So, if it makes you feel better, you’re welcome to come check him out and make sure he’s okay.”
“Is he bleeding? Is he crying still?”
“No. He’s not bleeding. It’s just a pretty big bump on his forehead. He stopped crying when we took the ice off.”
Noggin bumps are a pretty common occurrence for us. Hell, they’d done 10 times more than I’ve ever done when he hit his head. He’s in much better hands there than he is with me, apparently.
“You know, I’m not worried. Sounds like you guys handled it well, and as long as he seems to be okay, I’ll just wait to pick him up at the end of the day.’
All that commotion certainly helped get my mind off the worry, and I had to laugh. Am I too nonchalant a parent? Am I callous and cold? I know they were doing their job, and I’m so glad they keep me in the loop. I just hope they don’t think I’m uncaring for not opting to go check him out.
Finally the nurse called us back, took my weight, made me pee in a cup, get undressed from the waist down, then wait ANOTHER ETERNITY in the ultrasound room. Fact- I will not indulge my husband in small talk while in the ultrasound room no matter how hard he tries. Fact- He will most likely annoy the shit out of me.
The OB checked out my cervix and reminded me about the polyps that were there. I knew this at the last appointment, but never thought to attribute the bleeding to them since the bleeding seemed to come from nowhere (i.e. my husband was out of town at the time I started bleeding if you know what I mean). She told me to just reside myself to random bleeding throughout the pregnancy. Super.
Then she sent the dildo cam up on an expedition. I turned my head, closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see anything bad come up on the screen. I held my breath until I heard the words, “Wow. Big baby!” I slowly turned and looked. Oh my. There it was. A fully formed little baby, doing a little jig. “There’s the heartbeat,” and then it happened. I cried tears of relief. It stretched out and danced around. We got some great pictures and even saw a tiny little profile. Fact- I will thank everyone in the room profusely after I see my healthy baby.
It never gets easier, does it? I was explaining to Scott on the drive there that it’s the strangest thing, being solely responsible for growing a person, and yet having no control over it.
So, all’s well that ends well. It was a fun 24 hours that I’d like to not repeat again for a while, BOTH of my babies giving me a heart attack. I’m hoping for an uneventful 16 week appointment, and then I’m sure I’ll be a bitchy fireball of nerves again before the “big” ultrasound.
Fact- My husband is a saint for putting up with me. Fact- He knew what he was getting into before he married me, so I don’t feel too bad.
I’m 12 weeks pregnant, Kendall is 2 (and the bump doesn’t look too bad… relatively speaking)
*** #helpSam UPDATE!! ***
We have officially passed our SUPER AWESOME goal of $7,500 to help the Sartin Family! Thank you, thank you, thank you!! We still have today and all of tomorrow left to get funds in, so let’s just see how far we can take it. I think $8,000 is definitely attainable and who knows, maybe we’ll even make it to $8,500?!
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