David was really aggravated he had to miss this appointment because of a business trip. I told him it was no big deal since all of them have been so uneventful. But he is the one who usually asks questions at the appointments and remembers key information, etc. He knows sending me alone and then asking me about it later would be like dropping Bella off at the vet and then asking her afterward what the vet said. So, of course, the one time the midwife tells me anything of any importance, I was on my own and had to ensure my mind was like a steel trap, rather than the sieve it has become since I’ve gotten knocked up. Let me start from the beginning…
So, at the weigh-in, I had gained either 4 or 5 pounds since last month. The reason I don’t know the exact amount is because, like I noted in the above paragraph, I can’t remember shit these days. Anyway, clearly my appetite has returned! The nurse listened to the baby’s heartbeat which was 145 and took my blood pressure, which was 110/70. I’m pretty sure I’m remembering those numbers correctly. The nurse said my blood pressure was a little low, but I’ve read those numbers are healthy, so maybe she just meant low compared to what mine is normally. She said it was better than being high so it’s not a big deal.
The midwife came in and talked with me for a bit and pulled up my ultrasound results. She said everything looked really good–the baby was in the perfect position, the cord looked healthy, etc. Then she said she wanted me to go ahead and schedule another ultrasound for next month. I was like, WTF? Why so soon? She asked if I had ever heard of placenta previa and proceeded to tell me my placenta was low-lying and was not a complete placenta previa but they wanted to monitor me. Apparently, my placenta did not attach at the top of my uterus like it is supposed to and is getting all up in my cervix’s business, which is not good because the baby needs to come out of there eventually and doesn’t need a placental roadblock. Luckily, most women diagnosed with a partial placenta previa at this stage find the situation resolves on its own by the next ultrasound. It can “move” up (it doesn’t really move, but can end up a little higher due to the uterus still stretching). I am keeping my fingers crossed this is what happens because if it doesn’t, I’ll end up having to have a C-section and I do not want that.
At the time, I was pretty upset when the midwife told me this news because she had to also tell me worst-case scenario stuff just to prepare me. Of course, all I heard was C-SECTION C-SECTION C-SECTION and felt nervous and overwhelmed. She said they won’t deliver a baby vaginally if there is a partial placenta previa because it’s dangerous to the baby and me. And she told me they preferred the baby to be alive when I delivered. I told her I indeed preferred a live baby. She told me to not worry because she was sure the situation would resolve itself. Then she told me if I had any bleeding before my next appointment I was to not dilly-dally and to get myself to the hospital immediately. On that note, I left the appointment completely at ease–NOT.
I had a text from David waiting for me after my appointment: “Let me know how the appointment went.” I replied that it went fine. He was still in Mobile doing work stuff and I didn’t want to worry him. Telling falsehoods over text is surprisingly easy even though I still felt guilty. For god’s sake, he once asked me (to my face) if I had scooped the litterboxes and I tried to lie about it and failed. David is the only man on god’s green earth to whom I cannot tell a lie. But my text must have been very convincing because he believed me. So I called Leah and cried instead. That made me feel better. Then I did some Internet research, only paying attention to the positive stuff and there was lots of positive stuff!!! YAY! After some emailing with Betsy, I felt much better by the time David called on the way home. Of course, the minute I heard his voice, I told him and cried all over again.
Now that it’s been a few days and we’ve read so many positive things, we aren’t really worried. I know it’s selfish of me but I just really don’t want a C-section. But if that’s what I have to have done, I’ll do it. Honestly, I really feel like this will all be a nonissue by the time my December 8 ultrasound rolls around. I think it will show that my placenta has decided to leave my cervix be and allow me the hoo-ha delivery I’ve always dreamed of.
I have been so lazy about posting! Those of you who read my other blog know this is not unusual behavior. I have so many notes about different topics so it’s not for lack of material. It’s just procrastination. But I do have some good excuses for not posting lately (in addition to the usual procrastination and laziness)–it’s been a busy time for us. We signed a purchase agreement for a new home so we’ve been busy with everything that goes with that, not to mention we are STILL dealing with Progressive over the whole stolen car fiasco. More on both these topics in another post. Let’s move on to the fun stuff–the 20-week ultrasound!
We were pretty excited about the “big” ultrasound. In fact, I was in a pretty big hurry to get to the doctor’s office so on the way to the appointment, I was doing something I don’t usually do–I was speeding! And guess what? After not receiving a ticket in probably ten years or so, I got pulled over and cited. The sheriff deputy gets a Prick of the Year Award for giving a ticket to a pregnant lady on the same street as her doctor’s office when she was on her way to her appointment. I apologized profusely, told him I really had to pee and explained I wouldn’t ordinarily speed. He instead focused on the fact I did not have proof of insurance, whereupon I explained my car had been stolen and I hadn’t gotten my new insurance card and that is why I was driving a rental. He cut me a break on that but gave me a ticket for speeding (41 in a 30–I’m such a menace to society!). Anyway, I arrived at the appointment very upset and told David this would never have happened if I hadn’t been fat and gross and pregnant. Nonpregnant Emily wouldn’t have gotten a ticket. She was adorable, charming and sometimes wore makeup. And had a bladder of steel. David was the perfect consoling husband, although he was surprised because he’s never even seen me drive 5 mph over the speed limit. So he put out that emotional PL fire and we went back to check out Baby Castille on the big screen.
The ultrasound room isn’t bad. I like that it’s dark, of course. It was warm this time and we all know how well that sort of thing goes over with me. I immediately asked that the air be turned on. I didn’t really know what to expect because my first ultrasound was a vaginal ultrasound that was fairly quick. This ultrasound was just like in the movies, where they put all the goop on your belly and go to town. What they don’t show in the movies is that it takes approximately 500 years. It’s sort of uncomfortable because you have to lie on your back the whole time. Also, Baby Castille was VERY active, making it even more difficult for the technician to get a good view of everything, so that prolonged the process as well. At some points, I kind of felt nauseated and nervous, mostly because it sort of hit me that if anything major was wrong with the baby, I would find out then. Plus, the technician would get really quiet sometimes and I wanted to be like, “Speak, bitch!” because I just assumed that she was seeing a tail or something crazy.
But Baby Castille was looking good. We saw fingers, face, organs, etc. We had to look away for a while when she tried to see the baby’s bottom half since we don’t want to know the sex. I assume all was well concerning the baby’s privates. Ever since I saw some documentary on hermaphrodites on MSNBC, I have been very concerned about having one and then having to make the call about whether to raise it as a boy or a girl. I am terribly indecisive and that’s a pretty big decision. So, whew–what a load off my mind!
When it was all over, David and I walked to the elevator and he, grinning from ear to ear, asked me what I thought. I had only two things to say: “The baby looks sort of creepy, like an alien” and “I still can’t believe I got a fucking ticket.”