There are a lot of ‘Oh Shit’ moments in pregnancy. Some are lower-case ‘oh shit’ moments, including things like:
- Did I just pee my pants when I sneezed?
- I just dropped the stupid thing again and now I have to bend over AGAIN to pick it up
- I might throw up in the grocery store
- I might throw up in the car and I don't know if I can pull over
- I might throw up in the middle of this sentence
- This awkward basketball stomach keeps getting in the way of everything
- I need a donut now but there is no donut around
Those moments are frequent but mostly insignificant. They’re annoying, but don’t present any real cause for concern in the long run (though, try telling me that when I really want a donut and can’t get one). Then there are capital OH SHIT moments; things that signal a huge red flag and may be a really f*ckin big deal.
For me, there have been two capital-letter-OH-SHIT moments. The first came in my first trimester, when I was sick, tired, and this was all very new. Let’s be real, it’s still all very new, but it was even NEWER at that point. Not only was I clueless, but we were living in the middle of nowhere in Maine. We had very limited Internet access (probably for the better), and very limited cell phone service. We were almost 20 miles of logging roads away from town, and “town” didn’t consist of a whole lot. I couldn’t troll the Internet for endless articles early pregnancy, but I was desperate to know what “normal” was and what a cause for concern was.
I didn’t know much, but I knew that any spotting was bad. I doubt many women have gotten through early pregnancy without worrying about miscarrying, especially because the frequency of miscarriage is higher than you may think. Most miscarriages happen before you even know you’re pregnant, but get a group of moms together in a room and I bet one of them has lost a baby early in pregnancy. I woke up with the slightest bit of spotting and immediately panicked. Not only was I really sick, but I was drunk on hormones and had little control over my emotions. I was a half step away from a total melt down when Adam agreed we should go to see the doctor – which in Greenville is the local emergency room.
We had a bumpy, silent 45 minute ride down the logging road back into town. I was terrified, but I also had an overwhelming sense that everything was okay. Of course, that immediately turned into crushing fear again, but at least there was temporary relief.
We had my blood test for hCG (the pregnancy hormones) levels, and it would be re-tested again two days later to make sure it was going up. It was my first foray with the loss of privacy that comes with pregnancy. The hilarious, upbeat doctor did an internal exam, stuck the speculum up in the air, and said “Look at that! No blood!” Thank you for sharing that with the room, doc. See? you guys probably didn't even want to know that. Not only did that humor lighten to mood, but also the two walk-in "emergencies" that came to that ER (did I mentioned the only doctor available was in the tiny emergency room?). One was a guy with a chunk of sawdust in his eye, the other took a wrench to the head and needed to be patched back up.
The doctor said she thought everything was okay and it was just a bit of normal spotting that I had. We wouldn’t know for sure until the blood test came back, but it was a start. She talked to us about how common miscarriage is, and how it’s your body’s way of deciding there’s something wrong with the pregnancy and ending it. It sounded comforting on the surface, but there’s almost no way to comfort parents who think they may be losing their opportunity to actually become parents.
I cried the whole way back, wondering if my hCG levels would go up. Of course, you already know that they did and everything was fine. The rush of hormones had left me unable to reason with the fact that a tiny, tiny speck of blood might just be normal. Adam proposed to me the same day, on his mother’s birthday with her engagement ring. It was simultaneously one of most horrifying and amazing days of my life.
That wasn’t the end of my capital-letter-OHSHIT moments, though.
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| Third Trimester |
Everything seems so much more real once you pass the 30 week-mark. You’re well past the halfway mark and you’re considered “full term” at 36 weeks. Suddenly, I felt like we had to do all of those important “near the end” things like touring the hospital, taking a birthing class, and having a baby shower. I signed us up for a childbirth class at a private center (cheaper than our hospital, surprisingly). It was a “power weekend” session, a 9a-3p one day smorgasbord of information. I dragged my butt out of bed earlier than I wanted to that Sunday, and took a shower still half asleep.
As I was drying off, a gush of clear, scentless fluid came out of me all at once. I stood there paralyzed as it ran down my legs… I didn’t just pee myself, right? Nope, not urine. The only other logical alternative in my mind was that my water broke. I could hear Adam cooking breakfast downstairs, and I was afraid to set the train in motion. I knew I had to tell him, so I tried to put on my best “Honey, can you come here?” calm voice. He’s good at being outwardly put-together in those types of situations, but I knew he was freaking out. I did what the Internet told me to do when you think your water has broken – put on a pad and wait. If it keeps coming out every time you stand up, it’s probably your “water”. I sat down to eat breakfast and got up to another leak of fluid, so I had to face the facts and call the doctor.
Of course, it was a Sunday so the office was closed, but the answering service paged the doctor on-call. They didn’t call back right away, so we figured a childbirth class was a pretty safe place to go. Adam asked me to pack a “go-bag” in case we did have to go the hospital. I’ve read many different lists about what to bring and what not to bring to the hospital, but in the moment I suddenly forgot all of it. We had a time crunch to get to the class, and I tried to will my brain into functioning and grabbed what I thought were the essentials.
I knew Adam was barely keeping it together because he got into the driver’s seat and couldn’t stop laughing. I looked at him like he had three heads, and he said “…Ahhhh… I’m losing my mind”. We made it to the birthing class on time, and I felt a bit better that a licensed Doula was leading the class. She would know what to do if I had to suddenly give birth. Each couple had to introduce themselves and was given a question/prompt to share. Ours was “what are three words that come to mind when you think about birth?” We read it together, then I looked Adam dead in the face and said:“imminent.”
The class was great, and thankfully uneventful. I was feeling a bit better around lunch time, but the doctor still hadn’t called. I called the answering service again, and this time she called me right away. She is really great in person, but was pretty stern with me on the phone. “You have to come in to the hospital and get checked out.” We had an hour and a half left in the class, so I asked if we needed to leave right away or could wait for a little bit. “Nope. You have to come in. Now.” Well, okay then. Adam gave me a stink eye because, of course, he listened to the conversation with the doctor as I told her that I had been leaking fluid “and also had some new pelvic pressure.” I didn’t tell him that part… whoops.
As with the first OHSHIT moment, I felt a sense of calm that everything was going to be fine as we drove to the hospital. The anxiety came back as I realized I had to call my parents. I didn’t want them to freak out, but how could they not? My mom doesn’t have a cell phone and wasn’t home, and I actually breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, I wanted my parents to know, but I didn’t want to turn the whole day into a big production if it didn’t have to be.
Thankfully, it didn’t have to be. I was seen right away in Labor & Delivery. They hooked me up to fetal monitors and listened to his heartbeat. Adam called his dad and let him know “we may have a baby soon, I don’t know.” The ‘quick test’ of the fluid showed that it wasn’t my amniotic fluid, and while we waited for the longer test to come back we got a freebie ultrasound. The doctor could see a good amount of fluid and checked on the baby. We got to see him practice breathing, which was pretty amazing. He was sitting head down, which was accounting for the new pressure and pains I felt. Apparently, the extra pressure, warm water from the shower, and being this far along, can thin out cervical mucus. Also, the baby can kick/punch/whatever me in the bladder, and what comes out doesn’t look/smell like urine, and it can come out all at once. She did an internal exam to confirm that my cervix was still closed, and of course an internal exam is never that comfortable. But then she said “feel that?” (It just felt like pressure) “yup, that’s the baby’s head. He’s head down for sure.” Wait… excuse me? You just FELT HIS HEAD? “mmhmm. Yup. I mean, I can feel it through the cervix it’s not like I’m actually touching his head, but it’s definitely his head.” Adam said he almost pushed her out of the way so he could feel (he didn’t).
All in all, it was probably a 15-20 minute ordeal in the hospital. In, out, on with our lives. We were sent home to let the baby cook in there a bit longer, thank goodness. The nurse said “at least get to 37 weeks. 37 weeks and on, and we’re happy.” Of course, now that he’s sitting head down everyone is speculating that he may come early. I always assumed he wouldn’t since first babies usually don’t, but now I’m paranoid. I’m getting to the point where I can see why women are *over it* in that last month, but I desperately want to make it to the due date…. And not a day later ;)
