A quick trip to the hospital

For those who follow me on Twitter would have seen that yesterday I woke up with a really bizarre, localised pain above my belly button. I thought I’d been kicked heavily and expected the pain to go away shortly after I got up and pottered about the house.

It didn’t. Through the morning it got progressively worse and after visiting the bathroom at work, walking back to my desk, I was huddled over like a little old lady. Enough is enough. I phone Haider’s office and said ‘This is what I’ve got, what do I do?’ I didn’t think or expect it to be labour, it was far too specific, but at the same time as it was so odd, I thought I couldn’t ignore it. I also didn’t want him to think I was blowing everything out of proportion, but I knew that at 35 weeks, I needed to let him know.

Alyssa called me back, Haider wanted me to go to Waverley Private and get some monitoring done, they could assess me and call him in if they needed too. This next sentence is going to sound stupid and crazy, but bear with me. I hung on at work for another 2 hours as while it was getting worse, it was still mostly uncomfortable, over painful.

Halfway through a meeting, I admitted defeat and left the office. I drove home, picked up our labour ‘goody bag’ (will post on it’s contents this weekend) and walked straight into delivery at the hospital. I was assessed, hooked up to a monitor, which I hated, I was stuck in a chair, at one point holding on to the frickin paddle as Peanut was too busy moving around for them to get his heart-rate measured. They could see he was wiggling around, why they umpity ump they needed his heartbeat I don’t know. (Don’t start on about “distress”, as unless you’ve not felt your baby move 10 times in 24 hours, they won’t even look at you, I get 10 movements every half hour). Any hoo, we’d also found out that Haider was in the building operating. A message was left and we waited for him to dash down between cases.

When I’d finally been unplugged from the machine and texted Hubs to let him know that everything was OK, except they didn’t know what it was either,  I’d officially clicked over to where they should have admitted me to the ward. I’d stood up, and was rocking my hips back and forth trying to release the numb bum, the midwife said ‘I’m going to get you to lie down, as you look grey’. She’d made up one of the beds in the delivery suite with a sheet, helped me get my boots off, I won’t be wearing them again until Peanut’s arrived now, and felt around my tummy.

All day the painful bit had been hot, reddish and very tender to touch. When she looked at me this time, about 4:30, it wasn’t as red, or as hot, but was still sore. I got hooked up to another bluddy monitor, and she also palpitated my stomach, confirmed the little man’s head was well wedged into my pelvis. She also went to ask the radiology clinic to make sure if Haider requested an ultrasound, they could see me. 5 minutes later, I heard his familiar laugh in the corridor and he came into the room in his scrubs. Given that he has 3 children of his own, wearing the navy scrubs and a little tied on buff for surgery, he looked about 12 years old. Bless his heart.

Again he felt around and said, ‘It’s your fibroid’ Picked up on all three scans, the fibroid was stretched to capacity and had started to break up. Absolutely nothing serious to worry about as the rest of my tummy was fine, but it explained why I’d felt so tight over the past week or so. The red and heat were the blood vessels separating, and inadvertently because this was happening, it may mean I won’t have to have surgery on it down the track. Haider was going back to review my ultrasounds before we met for our normal appointment on Tuesday, and will keep an eye on it until I deliver.

While hooked up for as long as I was, because none of the midwives knew what it was, I’d reconciled myself to having an emergency C-Section that afternoon. All I could think of ‘I’ve still got so much work to do’. Not, oh goody, I’m going to be a Mama.

I need to work on my expectations on what is achievable, realistic and above all – let go of some stuff. If anyone has a little program I can work through to help me do that, let me know.

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