The Appointments

Weird feeling...I've now scheduled all of my doctor appointments through the end of my pregnancy. This pregnancy is going by extremely quickly.

If I can make time during lunch today, I'm going to tour a daycare so I can get TBD's name on the list. Insane.

No Surprise

I've now told two more associates that I'm pregnant. One responded, "I knew it. I could tell when you were here last week." The other said, "I figured as much."

I am not telling everyone at work yet, because a) it's not really their business b) I'm very sensitive to mixing personal with business -- I mix it when it's advantageous to me...and that's about it.

I'm ready for everyone to know though. It would also be kind of funny to not say anything...which, since my boss knows, I guess I don't really have to tell anyone else.

I rarely see anyone, since I work from home. I could easily go the entire pregnancy without any of my associates seeing me pregnant. Until I cut off my travel, I could totally pass it off as weight gain.

No Baby Drama

I'm very happy to report that today, as of this moment, there has been no baby drama. I'm knocking on wood.

This Wednesday was considerably better than last Wednesday.

And Now, Contractions

When I was pregnant with V, I always wanted to "feel" more pregnant. That is a stupid wish. If I ever hear someone say this, I'm going to tell them that they're being stupid.

So, I didn't drink enough water today and I wondered what the side effect of not drinking enough water is...well, my side effect is that I've been having regular contractions for most of the afternoon. I've consumed about six glasses of water since I started having contractions and they're pretty much gone now.

I'm an idiot.

UPDATE: In re-reading this, it's mis-leading. It makes me seem like even more of a dumbass than I actually am.

To clarify, I forgot to drink water -- I didn't purposely not drink water.

To further clarify, I've known that you're supposed to drink a lot of water while pregnant, but I never knew exactly why. I still don't really...but I assume. Drinking water sounds like good common sense, so I do it...except on this day when I was tired and busy...and forgot.

Still not smart, but not intentionally cruel.

TBD is A-OK

Just got back from the doctor and TBD is looking good. They officially think last week's issues were caused by my placenta being very low and overlapping my cervix. NET: Woo hoo!

Week 14 is off to a good start.

I Take it Back

Yeah, bed rest is not great. Especially when you're as anal about cleaning your house before your maid comes as I am. I threw a temper tantrum tonight, because I was frustrated that I couldn't do my normal cleaning by myself.

Not good. I locked myself in the office.

Lazy and Loving It

That's me.

I was born for bed (really couch) rest. I'm totally caught up on my TV and pickle intake. Life's much better than it was on Wednesday.

The downside of being caught up on TV is that I have that stupid Lady Ga Ga song in my head...I think it's called "Poker Face." Did you see "Parks and Recreation?" When Amy Poehler said, "My My My My My Poker Face," that cracked me up.

Also, I got out of a family outing. It's almost as good as the Christmas when I was on painkillers.

Yelling at random people = check.
Eating whatever I want = check.
Sleeping excessively = check.
Playing video games = check.
Watching a lot of TV = check.
Guiltlessly avoiding whatever I want/need to = check.

No bleeding today. (KNOCKING ON WOOD)

Bed Rest and Less-stress Living

After lying on my friend Veronika’s couch, with a snuggie, eating cookies, drinking caffeine-free Diet Pepsi (close enough) and Thai food, for 18+ hours, I can definitely tell that I feel better when I’m lying down vs. when I’m walking around. I guess the doctor knew what he was talking about when he recommended (not required) bed rest.

I’m lucky to have such good friends out here. One of my good friends called me and berated me for not asking her to come to the hospital – given she lives two minutes away. I love the fact that she feels comfortable yelling at me. Most do not. I liked it.

I’m only seeing very little blood now and it’s less frequent. I’m still kind of crampy though and my lower back kills. As a NET, I’m taking this as a positive sign.

Originally today, I was supposed to go to an offsite with team. The offsite was planned around my travel – that’s part of the reason I’ve felt compelled to continue my trip. This morning I made the difficult and more responsible decision to not go on the team offsite. Instead, I decided to use my time flexibility to get to the airport super-early to avoid as much travel hassle (read: stupid people) as possible.

This was a wise decision. The airport is full of drama today, but luckily, it is not mine (knocking on wood).

I had the opportunity to get on an earlier flight, but I elected to stay on a later flight in order to have a seat in first class. I’ve heard people say, “First class domestic isn’t worth it.” Those people don’t travel frequently. First class is always worth it. Plus, now I’ll have healthier food and a less cramped/less-stressful ride…and less people to hear me sobbing should it come to that.

It’s very anti-my personality to be this chill about stuff. I left for the airport 3+ hours early. Bizarre.

I’m still holding my shit together, but I can feel myself getting more emotional the closer I get to home.

It’s amazing how manipulative TBD is already. He/she is already a lot like their older sister.

This Guy Had a Bad Day

The bleeding is now very minimal, but I still don’t feel great. More than anything though. I’m having to hide how much of a raging bitch I want to be. Since he was the only one I could express rage to, the poor/dumb guy from Enterprise Car Rental was not fortunate enough to avoid the rage (mostly in the form of talking to him like he’s an idiot):

DUMB RENTAL CAR GUY (DRCG): “Bethany? I’m here.”
ME: “Where are you?”
DRCG: “In the hotel lobby.”
ME: “Any chance you can pick me up on the side entrance where I asked to be picked up at?”
DRCG: “Sure, I’ll be there in a sec.”
ME: “See you in a second. I’m walking out now.”

I wait in the designated meeting spot for 10 minutes.

ME: “Hi, this is Bethany. Where are you?”
DRCG: “Uh…(to someone else), where am I? (Valet) I’m at Valet.”
NOTE: The Valet stand at my San Jose hotel is about 15 feet from the hotel lobby.
ME: “So, are you driving over to get me?”
DRCG: “Where was I supposed to go again?”
ME: “Nevermind. I can see you talking to your friend and I need to get my car. I’m walking to you.”

NOTE: I’m really trying to not do a lot of walking.

ME: “Hi. I’m Bethany.” (said with attitude)

We start driving.

DRCG: “I’m having a bad day too. I got in late and my boss bitched me out.”
ME: NOTHING – but I’m thinking, “You, late? What a surprise, considering you’re 20 minutes late to pick me up.”
DRCG: “Why are you having a bad day?”
ME: “Personal stuff. It’s why I needed you to pick me up at the other entrance. I’m not supposed to be walking much.”
DRCG: “Oh. Sorry. You look OK. What could be that bad?”

I pause before answering. I almost don’t answer. Then I say to myself, “Fuck it.”

ME: “My body is trying to balance aborting a dead gestational sack without miscarrying my baby who’s still alive.”
DRCG: “Oh.”

We didn’t talk the rest of the way to the rental car agency...which was 30 minutes away.

=====================

As for what’s actually happening with TBD, they don’t know. Hopefully things will be OK until I get to the doctor on Monday – but even then, they may not know. It’s not typical what’s happening.

My Second Time as a Hospital Patient, Ever

Today ranks as one of the five worst days of my life. It also marks the second time in my life that I've been admitted to a hospital. The first time being when I gave birth to Violet.

This morning I woke up to severe bleeding (both new and old blood). To be clear - not spotting -- bleeding. I immediately called my doctor and since I’m out of town, I was instructed to go to the emergency room.

My rental car reservation is messed up, so I had to take a taxi to the hospital. At 6:56AM I arrived at the emergency room of O’Connor Hospital in San Jose. There was only one other person in the waiting room. Which is good, not only because of the shorter wait time, but I like to limit the number of people who are subjected to me sobbing uncontrollably.

I checked in and was asked to wear a mask as a precaution – because uterine bleeding is apparently airborne. They asked me a billion questions, determined that I’m 14 weeks, one day pregnant, which means I need to go to labor and delivery (L&D) to be examined.

I waited alone in the waiting room for 30+ minutes before I bugged the check in desk. Then some guy arrived with a wheel chair and took me to L&D.

The nurse at the L&D desk has the bedside manner of ass meat. I don’t know what that means, but I’d like to refer to her as “ass meat.” While I sat there filling out forms and answering questions in my wheelchair, a stranger brought me some tissues and offered to take my mask.

It must have been obvious that the mask needed to go, because wearing a mask + sobbing uncontrollably = paper stuck to your face and a worthless mask.

After processing my information, I was asked to get out of my wheelchair and go to the “resource room.” The “resource room” had three chairs, a nightstand from the 80’s, a trash can and two candy wrappers on the floor.

I’m assuming this is the room where they take families to deliver bad news.

I sat there for probably 20 minutes, then I asked ass meat what the ETA was. She told me that she had called the doctor and someone was on their way.

Ten minutes later a nurse (let’s call her ass meat’s ugly sister) pulls up with a wheelchair and informs me that according to their calculations, I’m actually 13 weeks, four days pregnant; therefore they need to take me back down to the ER. I’m still sobbing uncontrollably. A non-ass meat nurse pets my hair, says everything will be OK and tells me that they’re going to wheel me back downstairs.

They wheel me back down and I re-check in at the ER. I’m asked to put another mask on and I’m immediately sent to the triage nurse. He takes my blood pressure, temperature, asks me a million more questions and lets me know that I need to fill out some more paperwork, before they take me back into the ER.

I sign my life away and FINALLY, I’m taken into the ER. At this point, I’ve been at the hospital for 90+minutes.

A kind nurse tells me that I can take my mask off now and she leads me to Room #2. I’m asked to strip, piss in a cup, get into a gown and lay on a gurney.

A doctor comes in and asks me what’s going on. He tells me that they’re going to take my blood and give me an ultrasound. From here on out, I’m going to leave out wait times. Know that I wait at least 15 minutes between each new step.

Wait.

A different nurse comes in and takes my blood. They flushed my system with saline, which makes your mouth taste like seawater. She puts a port in my arm, because the doctor wants to run an IV. I tell the nurse that I’m not going to do an IV right now. I tell her that the morning has been traumatic enough; I just can’t deal with an IV right now. She tells me that’s OK, but she leaves the port in my arm. She starts some small talk to make me feel better and asks how old my daughter is. When I tell her two years and three months, she said, “Well, it’s time for you to be pregnant.” As soon as the words left her mouth, more uncontrollable sobs.

I leave my clothes, phone and wallet in room #2. I don’t really care about them at this point.

A different person, I have no idea who, wheels me through the hospital to the ultrasound department. With no word, I’m left in a hallway, still sobbing, in a hospital gown. Finally, some guy, stops and says, “Ma’am, we’ll be with you in a second.”

Wait.

Finally Ramon introduces himself and takes me to ultrasound room #4. He asks what’s going on, asks if he can tuck a towel in my underwear and smears on the ultrasound goo. Ramon is very kind and sensitive about the entire thing. He’s quiet for a while and I finally ask him, “Do you see anything?”

He tells me TBD looks fine. The heartbeat is strong and he can see no issues – with one exception. There’s another gestational sack. Then I explain about TBD’s possible twin.

He lets me see TBD, he takes some photos of TBD for me (which I’m later told never happens – so Ramon is really cool) and he leaves to talk to my doctor.

While Ramon is gone, it hits 9AM. I'm in a Catholic hospital. At 9AM they issue a reflection/prayer for the day. More sobbing. He returns shortly and tells me that I’m going back to the ER.

Ramon wheels me back through the hospital and I’m taken back to room #2 in the ER. My stuff is still there. Ramon gives me my phone so I can call Dave.

Wait.

My doctor comes back in, tells me that everything looks OK, but they’re not positive why I’m bleeding. He tells me to take things easy, stay off my feet and to rest as much as possible. He tells me that he’s going to write up some instructions and that a nurse will be back in to remove my port.

Wait.

A weird nurse comes in and takes my port out. She reads through my doctor’s notes. My official diagnosis is something something miscarriage/abortion. Real light reading.

I’m asked to get dressed and to leave. I ask if I need to check out and she says “no.” I walk out of the ER alone, get in a taxi, go to work.

I’m still bleeding, so I’m not going to feel better until I see my doctor on Monday in Houston.

On the positive, I had to tell my boss what was going on and it went really well. She told me I should fly home immediately if that is what’s best -- I'm stubborn, I'm finishing my trip. On the negative, I still won’t be going loud and large with my pregnancy news, because I’m facing another hurdle.

I made it on time to my 10:30 meeting.

Lucky week 13...

Scheduled C-Section

Met with my doctor this morning. Heard TBD's heartbeat. Then we chatted about my delivery. I asked her if I could try a Vaginal Birth After C-section (VBAC). She said that if I want to, she'll support me.

We reviewed my odds for a successful delivery and we discussed what I did and did not like about V's delivery. The biggest concern my doctor has is that the type of incision I required to emergency deliver V will dramatically increase the odds that my uterus could rupture during childbirth.

At the end of the discussion, I decided on a scheduled c-section. My doctor told me to think about it and do some research. I'll look around online, but my mind's pretty much made up. Why risk one more unknown complexity?

Also, I dropped the urine sample cup in the toilet and I had to fish it out. Nasty.

Uhhh...

Tonight I ate the last two dill spears we had in the house. That didn't fill me up, so I proceeded to drink an entire jar (meaning it had all 3/4-full) of pickle juice.

It was the best thing I've ever tasted.

Second Trimester

I'm now officially in my second trimester. I still can't openly talk about my pregnancy though, thanks to a little thing called "the Internet." I tell my boss in two weeks, then hopefully, I'll be able to talk about it openly. I most certainly don't want my associates hearing about it on Facebook.

I cannot believe how quickly my first trimester went by. Today at lunch, I looked at Dave and said, "Oh my God. That was fast. We're going to have another kid in, like, no time."

Then I took a moment and breathed.

I'm still in shock on this pregnancy. I'm hoping that finding out the sex (in six weeks or so) will make things real. Giving the kid a name should help, although, I may always refer to him/her as "TBD."

It's a Girl

Really, we have no idea. Until this point, I've had a feeling that TBD is a boy. Now, because I've been beyond grumpy for a solid week, I now think TBD's a girl.

I get irritated by people when I'm not pregnant. When I am pregnant, it feels like everyone is picking on me and it takes all my will power to not snap at, well, pretty much everyone. I very much remember feeling this way when I was PG with Violet, so that's where the girl thing comes from.

Then I went and re-read the entire "Twilight" saga in a week. With pregnancy hormones coursing through my veins. Stupid.

I guess the positive is that I'm feeling a lot less tired, otherwise, the whole reading late into the night thing would have gone nowhere.