Alright, we are going to take a moment to talk about how not everything that the internet tells me is an emergency, is an actual emergency. We are also going to talk about fluids. If you are not able to handle pregnant lady fluids, just stop right here. I debated writing this post, because it is my first foray into letting the world know something that I had trouble just telling my husband. I now realize that was a stupid way to feel, and that a post like this could be beneficial to other pregnant or considering being pregnant ladies. This is really not that gross in the grand scheme of life, but here is your warning. If I know you in real life, and you complain or bitch or try to make me feel gross about being a pregnant lady with pregnant lady fluids, I am spiking your drink with whatever is the grossest thing to come out of me in the next year. If I don’t know you in real life, I don’t give a shit how gross you think I am, and you get a free pass on the fluid spike. So there. You’ve been warned.
Adam and I got home pretty late Saturday night because we were being amazing babysitters. On the drive home, I mentioned that I had been feeling the baby kick less than I was used to. He and I were on a pretty good schedule. I would be hungry and not know it yet, he would kick the crap out of me to tell me to go make him a sandwich. And some occasional big HEYs in between. I had a strong, thudding baby. He wasn’t really letting me know I was hungry anymore, and he had taken to being pretty inactive during most of the day, with some short spurts when I woke up and before bed. So there was my first thing, but I wasn’t too worried and figured I would call my doctor on Monday. It wasn’t like he had stopped moving. He was just getting lazy and fat like his mom.
So we get home, and I go to the bathroom to pee because peeing is my new favorite pastime. Here is where the fluid happens so go away if this is going to make you have any feelings (which it shouldn’t because pregnancy and fluids go together like your mom and a dollar). I have an awesome friend who has two kids, and she is in charge of telling me all the gross stuff that is going to happen so I am not surprised and don’t throw up. One of the first things she told me was that my vagina was going to turn into a leaky faucet. So to be proactive, I started wearing panty liners to protect my really cute aerie underpants because I refuse to sacrifice such a beautiful collection to the pregnancy demons.
Anyways, I go to pee, and I have a little bit of a brown/red light discharge. And I immediately freak. Like I kind of start shaking. I come out and I am shaking and not breathing so great and I tell Adam that there is some..stuff. There is some stuff. And then I tell my husband about my discharge and telling my husband about my discharge is just not a place where we were in our marriage. If you are not there in your marriage, pregnancy will bring you there. And let me just say it was stupid of me to feel weird about being there in our marriage because in a couple months, while I am pushing the gift of a son out of my vagina, there is a really good chance that I am going to poop. Pregnant ladies, if your partner hasn’t seen you poop and they plan on being in the delivery room with you, they are probably going to see you poop. So just get past all the stupid weird feelings because all modesty is about to fall out of your butt.
So I freak out, because two of the things on the “Call Your Doctor Right the Hell Now” list are happening to me. I call the hospital and say that I have this discharge and that I also haven’t been feeling my baby move as much. I get a call back from the on-call doctor almost immediately, and he didn’t even care about the discharge. His concern was that I felt less fetal movement, and told me to come right in. And I officially lose it. I start breathing weird, crying, and I tell Adam that I am scared, because I am really freaking scared. But he was a calm, cool, collected rock star, and he told me I needed to calm down because of the baby. And boom. Calmer pregnant lady. This is one of the many moments I have already been grateful, and will continue to be grateful, because Adam is not a basket case like his adoring wife. He has this insanely calming influence over me, that I am really hoping works in the delivery room.
We get to the hospital, and the nurses hook me up to two monitors. One for the baby’s heartbeat, one for contractions. I am not having any contractions, and they find his heartbeat pretty quickly, and it’s a great heartbeat. The heartbeat monitor also picks up his movements, and the nurses tell me that he has moved four times, and ask me if I felt it. I said no. He moves some more. It shows up on the monitor, but I only feel one kick and it’s still really weak for me. But the monitor says he is doing everything normal. So really, he is thumping around in there, like he always is, and I’m just not feeling it. One nurse adjusts the monitor on my belly, and she feels a kick and asks if I felt it. Nope. That one, she thinks could have been my position at the time. But they start telling me that if I don’t feel him kicking, there are things I can do.
- Eat some ice. The noise of me crunching on it, plus the cold, can wake the baby up and get him bouncing around more.
- Drink some juice, lay on my side, and then grab my belly and shake it around. The sugar, the change in position, and the mini earthquake I am creating should wake him up and get him to react like an old lady thumping her ceiling with a broom.
They had me drink a bunch of ice water and apple juice because I was crazy dehydrated again (surprise surprise) and I laid on my side and within a minute, the baby was Rocky Balboa.
Now, throughout all of this, I want to really hit home one of the biggest surprises to me. No one really cared about the discharge. The nurses gave me the option of a pelvic exam, but told me it would probably result in me spotting. I decided that if the initial discharge wasn’t a big deal, I should probably just refrain from anything that might cause me to freak out later. They did tell me that bleeding like I was getting a period was cause for alarm, but that the discharge was pretty normal, and to take a chill pill. The biggest concern the whole time was the baby’s movement. Which turned out to be fine.
What gets my super cute undies in a twist, is that these things that I was being told to not freak out about, I had already been told to absolutely freak out about. I woke up this morning to my 29 weeks email that tells me what fruit my son is now and all that stuff, and one of the things it tells me is that my baby is still being active, but that I may be feeling less kicks because he is getting huge and there is less room in there for him to wind up and sock me a good one to the ribs. Something my nurses didn’t even tell me yesterday, and knowledge I could have used three days ago. The universe is a pissy, inconsiderate bitch sometimes.
When you’re going through your very first pregnancy, you have no idea what the hell is supposed to be happening, aside from what you are told. There is nothing to compare it to. So you believe all the alarmist crap because the internet has become your best friend and the What to Expect book is a movie now and Jennifer Lopez is in it and everything. That is where I currently am in life, because I don’t know anything besides the things that actually happen to me, and the buttload of stuff I read about. I am not in any way saying to believe nothing you hear and never call your doctor. You’re paying them to deal with you, whether it turns out you are wrong or you are right. So call, but breathe. I decided to write this post, because I am now a part of the internet, and I am hoping some crazy fools in the throws of a freakout find this post when they are googling all the weird shit you people google to get to my blog and it maybe calms their pregnant ass down.