Today was a day

It was a day alright, and a very emotionally-charged day at that. It started with me waking up, trying to ignore the fact that Nolan still wasn't moving in any way I could notice. I lasted pretty well until just before Phil left for work, at which point we did the doppler for the fourth time in the last 24 hours (that's a new record). All was well with his heartbeat, so I tried to go about my morning and not worry so much.

At 10:25 I had my appointment with my OB, which I was both eager for and dreading all at once. I prayed quite a bit that we could have a good appointment and that he could be reassuring and patient with me. That didn't happen. After arriving early and sitting in my car for a good 5 minutes just holding my belly and praying for movement (no such luck), I was a nervous wreck by the time I got to the waiting area. I tried to read a magazine, but could feel tears welling up and knew I was going to cry if they didn't take me back there soon. I think more than feeling scared I was just frustrated at that point. Why, of all the pregnant women in the world, am I the one to get the baby who just up and stops moving for three days straight? Why couldn't this happen to the girl who didn't WANT to be pregnant to begin with and therefore pays no attention to her body anyway? It is definitely a "woe is me" sentiment, because really in the end, if he's healthy and I bring him home, none of this will matter one iota. It's just that right now, in the heat of the moment, it's damn HARD not to jump to the worst case scenario.

                   

Please don't take this to mean I am not infinitely grateful to be here in this situation. I know I am lucky to even BE pregnant and that it's a bonafide miracle we've made it this far, given our history. It's just that for someone who has anxiety to the 100th degree, it sure would be nice to have a reassuring baby who couldn't STOP moving all day long. But alas, that does not appear to be my son. And I am trying to be ok with that.

The appointment itself was, well, horrible. I truly believe that at this point my OB can't stand the sight of me, and he hardly even tries to ACT like he has any patience left to deal with the woman who is apparently the biggest ball of anxiety he's ever met. The appointment was awkward and far too quiet: He hardly said a thing to me. He did the doppler (big deal, I can do that at home), and after I explained my concerns regarding Nolan's lack of movement, he proceeded to place his hands on my belly and then just sit there for at least 5 minutes, not saying a word. No small talk, no reassurances, nothing. Finally, he said "I'm feeling some movements with my left hand. Put your hands here." So I did, and then I waited, but I didn't feel a single thing. If he was moving, these were NOT the same types of movements we have come to know and love as of late. I mean it when I say, I didn't feel a thing.

At that point he got up (again, without saying anything to me) and walked out. He came back in and said, "Let's go across the hall." I assumed we were going to do an ultrasound (yay), but then again, as he wasn't talking to me at that point, I really didn't know.

Turns out I was right, and he went about getting the ultrasound set up in a room where another girl was having some sort of non-stress test done (awkward, as I've never done an ultrasound in a shared room). Silently, he turned on the machine and found what I imagined was my baby on the screen, though I finally had to ask what it was we were looking at, as I really couldn't tell. Have I mentioned he's not the greatest at ultrasounds? He actually admitted that today, which I did appreciate. Anyway, when I asked what I was seeing he said, "That's a femur."

Um, ok, awesome. I feel SO much better now that I have seen my son's freaking LEG bone. Thanks so much. Seriously?

He continued moving the wand around my belly, which is when he told me, "He's in a breeched position right now, so his head's up here."

No other explanation offered, so I asked, "Um, well, do I need to worry about that at this point?" He said I didn't and that it was early enough that he could still turn around, but again, no real reassurance there. Just matter of fact.

I asked if we could see his face (isn't that all we really want to see?), and he did find his little silhouette, which made me smile despite my anger at how I was being treated. Nolan's little profile looked adorable, and that's the image I'm trying to carry with me through the rest of today. Oh, and he WAS moving around quite a bit through the whole thing, so I guess I really just can't feel his every move yet. I don't know why sometimes I seem to feel every little twinge, and then other times I can't feel a single kick, but I guess that's just how it is.

As my doc was clearly starting to finish up, I asked, "So is he still measuring as he should be?"

To which he responded, "Oh, I'm not even going to do measurements today because you come back for another big ultrasound in a few weeks."

Me: "Oh, ok. But does he look ok to you? You're not concerned about anything?"

Him: "No, I'm not. *Audible sigh*... And I wish I could convince you not to worry about it either."

The bottom line is, I think he's done trying to reassure me. Because let's be honest, I'm still going to find something to worry about anyway, right? So why even try to calm my fears or even be civil to me at this point? Clearly he sees no point in that, and I feel he has basically written me off as a lost cause. And it pisses me off a LOT. I leave these appointments feeling like shit and like I'm a huge nuisance. And then I cry. Because I'm sorry, I am. I'm sorry I'm so scared of losing the most important thing to ever happen to me. I'm sorry I can't be happy-go-lucky like the rest of your patients and that you have to work a little harder than usual with me. I'm sorry I can't just take your word for it that everything will be perfect, end of story, so stop your fucking worrying already. I'm sorry. I look at the other pregnant girls in the waiting room with their confident smiles and carefree attitudes, laughing with their moms or the husbands, and believe me, I want more than anything to BE LIKE THEM. But I'm not, and I can't, and I hate it. I'm sorry. I'm doing the best I can, but when I leave those shitty appointments I honestly feel like I just can't do it. I can't be how I'm supposed to be, and that's that. I'm broken and I guess there's just no fixing me at this point.

Wow, melodrama much? It's been a long, tiring day. Did I mention this was the first day pretty much all summer that I got up at 6:15 with my husband? And that's a whole hour later than it'll be once school starts. So yeah, not digging the transition back to the real world.

Luckily, my next appointment (which is a big one) will have to be with another doctor, because mine didn't have any openings (I was so broken-hearted to hear that). Unfortunately, they have to split this big appointment into 2 different days, which means after my big anatomy scan on Sept 6th to check his ureter issue amongst other things, I'll have to wait until the next day to actually meet with a doctor about the results. Oh joy. I just imagine that will be a very peaceful, worry-free 24 hours, don't you? And on that 2nd day they'll also do my glucose test and give me my Rhogam shot (b/c I'm Rh negative). Right now, I'm really just so thankful that all of this will take place with a different doctor who doesn't openly loathe me!

So that was this morning: It was great in that I got to see my baby boy and (I think?) all is well... And it was horrible at the same time b/c my doctor is a dill hole who treats me like crap and makes me feel like a worthless human being. I'm going to focus on that first part and just be happy that Nolan is alive and well, even if he IS a bit lazy on the kicking front. (Actually, wouldn't you know he has been moving more this afternoon... because that's just the way these things work).

But there was more drama to the day, oh yes. This afternoon my mom called to say she was heading to the ER due to strange infection going on with her fistula (a huge vein they created in her arm back when she was on dialysis), which was causing red, painful spots all up her arm to her chest, as well as a low-grade fever. For someone with a kidney transplant, infection is never good. In fact, it's downright scary. So there's that going on, and they are still at the hospital as I write this.

To make things worse, their beloved dog is going downhill fast (he's 14), and my dad had finally scheduled for them to take him in tomorrow to be put down. He hasn't eaten anything for 2 days, and he's getting more and more lethargic. Because of his bladder cancer, the poor thing has had to wear diapers all summer, and he's just not doing well. It's time to let him go. And that sucks. Fuji is definitely a member of our family, and one we all love dearly, no one more than my parents. I know they are heartbroken, and yet here they are having to spend the last night they have with their dog in the ER, while he's home alone. :( My mom just desperately hopes they won't have to admit her over night, because if she can't go with my dad at 8am tomorrow to say goodbye to him, I don't know what will happen... but I do know it will break her heart even more. I feel so sad for them right now.

So yeah, this has been one emotional day and I think I've already cried at least of 3 times. On the other hand, it is gorgeous outside and I got to see my son, so I have plenty to be thankful for too. Some days are just like that I guess...