The Dry Run
If someone where going to tape one day to catch me being really stupid, they should have picked last Wednesday.
I had a meeting in the neighborhood and as usual I was running a bit behind. There I am walking down 20th Avenue (in high heels I might add), not thinking about anything except what a nice day it was outside and how I needed to get to this meeting. As I approached the corner, I could see a puddle the size of a small pond. And then I spotted a cut through area of the snow bank. I headed right to it. It was clearly well used. With no hesitancy, I took my first step, and then my second on the downsloping side of the snow bank. At that point- faster than I can clearly think through- I did the slipped-on-a-banana-peel-feet-go-flying-out-from-underneath-you-thing. I landed flat on my back and hit my head.
A second later I was scrambling to my feet, brushing off, still intent on making the meeting, although now angry at myself that I had failed to factor in the extra 20 pounds I am still working on balancing. I had a blazing head-ache and was just slightly worried about the baby.
By the time I got to the meeting, I had reassured myself that falling on my back had done nothing to the baby and my head was feeling better. I went directly to the counter of the coffee shop and ordered an Au Lait as a way to wake myself up a bit. Oops, forgot to say decaf...
An hour later, back in my office my boss advises skipping the trip to the gym and instead calling the midwives. Although I thought it was just a precaution, I followed directions. I thought the conversation with the nurse on the nurseline was going really well (she was unconcerned) until I told her I was 32 weeks along. At that point, I was rapidly told that one of my midwives would be calling me soon and to stay put.
The midwife on call did call right back and had one thing to say: come to the hospital. After getting off the phone, I was nearly in tears telling husband I didn't want to waste my time at the hospital, that it was going to ruin our evening plans, and that I was fine. But we packed up regardless.
It was great- it was just as though I was in labor- in through the E.R. up to the Birthing Center, into a maternal assessment room to be hooked up to monitors- one to track my uterus and one to track the baby. A gown 10 sizes too big put on me and into the hospital bed. I was told to hydrate (good thing I had that coffee few hours earlier).
I was thinking this was all a bunch of hooey until the nurse sobered me by telling us that I was indeed having contractions. (I was? I couldn't feel them!) She assured me that it was probably due to the trauma of the fall, but that they needed to "keep an eye on things for a while longer". The point at which the contractions (still almost imperceptible to me) were coming about two minutes apart is when the midwife had the "pre-term labor" discussion with us. What if it didn't stop? What if the baby was born?
For the first time all day I was freaked out. The only good news was that my cervix was "non-threatening"- not dialated, not soft, not ready to have a baby essentially. However, we were saved a seat- a.k.a. bed- in the hospital for the night for "monitoring". Fun!
Hooray, what a wonderful night sleep! The nurses only came in to wake me once an hour, the monitors were only slightly uncomfortable, and the plastic bed only made me sweaty most of the night. Husband was also immensely enjoying his plastic pull-out chair/bed. The only good news is that over night the contractions stopped almost completely and they thought the baby "looked good- good reactivity".
So the next morning we were released, breathing a deep sigh of relief as we considered it a good "dry run" and nothing more. I was thankful as a I headed home for a day of rest that my previous day's stupidity had not had anymore of an effect other than to remind me that pregnancy with all of its aches and pains, inconveniences and rules, is still way better than an emergency birth and a premature baby.
I had a meeting in the neighborhood and as usual I was running a bit behind. There I am walking down 20th Avenue (in high heels I might add), not thinking about anything except what a nice day it was outside and how I needed to get to this meeting. As I approached the corner, I could see a puddle the size of a small pond. And then I spotted a cut through area of the snow bank. I headed right to it. It was clearly well used. With no hesitancy, I took my first step, and then my second on the downsloping side of the snow bank. At that point- faster than I can clearly think through- I did the slipped-on-a-banana-peel-feet-go-flying-out-from-underneath-you-thing. I landed flat on my back and hit my head.
A second later I was scrambling to my feet, brushing off, still intent on making the meeting, although now angry at myself that I had failed to factor in the extra 20 pounds I am still working on balancing. I had a blazing head-ache and was just slightly worried about the baby.
By the time I got to the meeting, I had reassured myself that falling on my back had done nothing to the baby and my head was feeling better. I went directly to the counter of the coffee shop and ordered an Au Lait as a way to wake myself up a bit. Oops, forgot to say decaf...
An hour later, back in my office my boss advises skipping the trip to the gym and instead calling the midwives. Although I thought it was just a precaution, I followed directions. I thought the conversation with the nurse on the nurseline was going really well (she was unconcerned) until I told her I was 32 weeks along. At that point, I was rapidly told that one of my midwives would be calling me soon and to stay put.
The midwife on call did call right back and had one thing to say: come to the hospital. After getting off the phone, I was nearly in tears telling husband I didn't want to waste my time at the hospital, that it was going to ruin our evening plans, and that I was fine. But we packed up regardless.
It was great- it was just as though I was in labor- in through the E.R. up to the Birthing Center, into a maternal assessment room to be hooked up to monitors- one to track my uterus and one to track the baby. A gown 10 sizes too big put on me and into the hospital bed. I was told to hydrate (good thing I had that coffee few hours earlier).
I was thinking this was all a bunch of hooey until the nurse sobered me by telling us that I was indeed having contractions. (I was? I couldn't feel them!) She assured me that it was probably due to the trauma of the fall, but that they needed to "keep an eye on things for a while longer". The point at which the contractions (still almost imperceptible to me) were coming about two minutes apart is when the midwife had the "pre-term labor" discussion with us. What if it didn't stop? What if the baby was born?
For the first time all day I was freaked out. The only good news was that my cervix was "non-threatening"- not dialated, not soft, not ready to have a baby essentially. However, we were saved a seat- a.k.a. bed- in the hospital for the night for "monitoring". Fun!
Hooray, what a wonderful night sleep! The nurses only came in to wake me once an hour, the monitors were only slightly uncomfortable, and the plastic bed only made me sweaty most of the night. Husband was also immensely enjoying his plastic pull-out chair/bed. The only good news is that over night the contractions stopped almost completely and they thought the baby "looked good- good reactivity".
So the next morning we were released, breathing a deep sigh of relief as we considered it a good "dry run" and nothing more. I was thankful as a I headed home for a day of rest that my previous day's stupidity had not had anymore of an effect other than to remind me that pregnancy with all of its aches and pains, inconveniences and rules, is still way better than an emergency birth and a premature baby.
posted by KLOU | 7:35 PM
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