My BASTARD’s back and there’s (not) gonna be trouble
Hey now, hey now, my BASTARD’s back.
Not in a big way, but sadly he was there in today’s scan.
I was doing ok leading up to today’s scan. I duly drank my water an hour before, Hub in boots and I showed up about 15 minutes early, and I waited, reading a baby magazine. Hub-in-boots read Wheels magazine. Then they ran late. Then they ran later. Then 90 minutes after my drink I was busting to pee.
I asked when we’d go in, as I was getting pretty uncomfortable. Then they called “Joanne”, and before I could get up, some other Joanne scarpered in the door and I was left in reception. I could hear a kerfuffle 10 minutes later
“Who have you got in here?” the main technician said into two of the rooms. I knew what had happened. Finally we were taken in, the wrong file for the wrong patient. They thought this was my second child, they didn’t know about the history of hemorrhaging and bed rest, they had no idea about the need to check for the clot. Brilliant. They only knew, once I laid there and told them, each little bit of what my doctor expected from today.
Oh and they kindly informed me they couldn’t do the scan whilst I was busting. No no, they needed me to go to the loo, and pee a little bit. Now picture that moment when you’ve been busting for half an hour, you finally get to the loo and you’re not allowed to pee. Much.
“Well I can’t pee just a little bit”
“well you’ll have to just empty your bladder and then drink some more, and we’ll wait”
“Or you people could just get organised and check patient names thoroughly, and run on time” (yes, I actually said this).
Needless to say I was not a happy camper, gave her a mouthful of pissed off pregnant chick, and the ultrasound technician had a bit of apologising to do. So much for calm birth.
Anyway, we had the scan. I was hoping for fluffy bunnies and butterflies today, I even had visions in my mind of stopping at a big ass ole’ baby store on the way home in celebration. But what I need to get clear in my mind, is this is not a fluffy bunnies and butterflies pregnancy, and will never be. It’s not going to happen. The truth is, I spent the entire one hour of the scan holding my breath. (yes, that’s right, it was a total of two and half hours til I got to pee, that’s 150 minutes, people). Every organ that was checked, every chamber of the heart, every blood flow analysis, every bone, I was waiting for the BUT.
And before you jump on the “oh you just need to think positive” bandwagon, I challenge you to live this pregnancy, and to hear how many “buts” we’ve already experienced, and still keep breathing in and out, let alone think positive. Living with Mindfulness and realistic thinking: absolutely. I’m there. Positive thinking in this pregnancy is like continually stabbing yourself in the eye with a fork.
And of course, the BUT came. And no, I didn’t will it into existence. I’ve willed it out of existence, and still BASTARD exists. I had visions of bedrest ending, of quiet lunches out and solo shopping trips for baby in two weeks. They were positive. I understand they are just that: visions.
Don’t get me wrong, a part of me you can’t see is delighted. BASTARD is 16ml in size. He’s got smaller. He’s only got old blood inside. The placenta is not bleeding at long last. I’m delighted that Gumby is looking well, (though the photos were crap today because of the impatient ultrasound technician and the fact that he would not stop moving). I’m delighted he has 10 fingers and toes. But we’re not the parents that are there for the photos. We’re there for serious medical reasons and really, sorting those out is all that matters.
I’ve already had the “Nope I can’t see any clot there at all” scan. So it’s not so easy to go back to a world of “Oh. I see it now. There’s the clot” alongside Gumby, not breathing while they take the clot measurements. I have known all along this is what would happen today. I was careful to correct anyone who said “Oh wow he’s gone!”. I know health is not that simple, in the absence of a magic wand. But I certainly hoped we were living in this alternate fluffy bunnies universe.
I struggled to feel any joy today in Gumby’s movements, or even to enjoy seeing him again, much. He did crazy somersaults about four times. He had his feet over his head. He jumped. He sucked his thumb. I had moments. But mostly I was numb, busting, and hanging on for the scan to be over. This is what a complicated pregnancy takes from you.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll sit quietly at home on my own and rewatch the dvd they gave us, and it will feel different, different when I don’t have to hold my breath anymore. When I can pee at will. Different when we get the call from the ultrasound specialist to discuss what the results mean (he’d got stuck in a meeting when we were there). Different when I know what the implications of today are, for bedrest and medication, as I watch that precious escape from the house slipping away. And just in case you can feel the joy that is at times escaping me, here’s a few blurry pics of our tossy turny boy.
PS Sorry I am sounding like a bit of a whiny mole today. I’m happy Gumby’s healthy and alive, honestly. I know that’s a thousand blessings, right there. Hub-in-boots really enjoyed all the action and movement from Gumby, and it was funny watching him watching Gumby. I did enjoy that part.
I’m just sick of being on the couch. It’s a long road ahead.
And for some reason I found today was a really really hard day.