A Memoir, Part 2
(You can go back and catch up on part 1 of my memoir here.)
"Congratulations!" said our doctor, entering the exam room where we both sat in silence. "So, the test we ran was positive; you're about five weeks pregnant." She washed her hands nonchalantly and wiped them on a paper towel.
"Five weeks?!?" I said. It sounded like an eternity. Had I really been pregnant for five weeks and not known it?
The doctor smiled, and nodded. "Oh," she said knowingly, "Was this a surprise?"
M and I looked at each other. "Well... no... I mean, sort of? ummm..."
"Who's your OB?" she asked kindly.
I named off the doctor I had seen for my last "annual" visit.
"And will he deliver the baby?"
"Ummm... I guess? I don't know." I hadn't really liked the guy, to be honest.
"Wow, so this is all really new to you, huh?" The doctor smiled again.
M piped in. "Our at-home pregnancy test was Wal-mart brand. Is there any possibility that it's... well... inaccurate?"
The doctor laughed. "Sorry, but no. You're far more likely to get a false negative than a false positive."
She left us with a prescription for pre-natal vitamins and instructions to make an OB/GYN appointment. We sat there staring at each other for fully five minutes after that.
But even as we drove home, the shock was wearing off, and I couldn't stop grinning. "Oh honey!!" I gushed, "We're going to have a baby!!" And M smiled the most loving smile.
In the next few days and weeks, the underlying excitement grew. I went from clueless to can't-get-enough-information-about-pregnancy. I called and made an appointment for my first "pre-natal" checkup (yay)! I cut back my caffeine intake. We attended an Early Pregnancy class at the hospital and learned what I could and couldn't do. I bought a used copy of "What to Expect When You're Expecting" at a bookstore in Vermont while we were there visiting some friends (who we of course told about the pregnancy). I checked out the "Pregnancy for Dummies" DVD series from the library and watched the entire thing in one night. I googled "pregnancy week by week" just about every day, and learned when my baby was changing from the size of a sesame seed to the size of a raisin. We dreamed about everything parents do-- what our baby would look like, whether it was a boy or a girl, what names we liked. We told my parents, my sisters and brothers, M's family, and many of our friends. We told lots of people. "We're going to have a baby! I'm due in April! We're so excited! Everything looks great! I feel great! I don't feel nauseous!"
I didn't feel nauseous.
And then one day, in week 8 of the pregnancy, I noticed it.
When I used the bathroom first thing one morning, I saw the smallest drop of blood. It was tiny, miniscule even, but unmistakably blood. All day I was vigilant, checking again and again, trying not to worry. I saw nothing else for the rest of that day.
But the next morning, there it was again. Just a drop. Then nothing for the rest of that day.
And again the next morning... but a little more than a drop that time.
That was when I told M. "I don't know what to tell you, honey. Maybe call your Mom?"
So I called my Mom. "I'm pretty sure I had some spotting at the beginning of one or two of my pregnancies," my mom (mother of four) said. "But you'd better call your doctor, just to be sure. Try not to worry, hon."
It was Friday evening, but I called my doctor anyway. "This could be one of two things," she said. "Plenty of women have some bleeding at the beginning, and then go on to have successful pregnancies. But spotting can also be a sign of an impending miscarriage."
I gulped. "So what do I do?"
"Unfortunately, since it's Friday night, there's nothing I can do for you right now. If you're still feeling fine as you are now, you're okay to wait out the weekend. I'm making you an appointment for first thing Monday morning-- an ultrasound to check on the baby. In the meantime, if you feel any cramping or pain, or experience any more bleeding than what you've described, I want you to come to the ER immediately."
So we waited out the weekend. I continued to feel no pain, and didn't have any more bleeding. M and I tried to keep busy-- to keep our minds occupied. I went to a movie with my sister. We shopped for groceries. We went to church. People were telling us that things would probably turn out fine, and we believed them, for the most part. But there was that underlying, pins-and-needles, sorrow-being-held-at-bay tension.
Monday morning, M kissed me goodbye and went to work. "I'm sure it's all going to be okay, honey. Call me when you're done."
I remember stopping at a gas station on the way to my appointment. I think the moment I stood there pumping gas was the moment it started to sink in that this pregnancy could be over. Despair started to creep in around the edges of my brain, but still I tried to hold out hope.
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-------
To be continued...
"Congratulations!" said our doctor, entering the exam room where we both sat in silence. "So, the test we ran was positive; you're about five weeks pregnant." She washed her hands nonchalantly and wiped them on a paper towel.
"Five weeks?!?" I said. It sounded like an eternity. Had I really been pregnant for five weeks and not known it?
The doctor smiled, and nodded. "Oh," she said knowingly, "Was this a surprise?"
M and I looked at each other. "Well... no... I mean, sort of? ummm..."
"Who's your OB?" she asked kindly.
I named off the doctor I had seen for my last "annual" visit.
"And will he deliver the baby?"
"Ummm... I guess? I don't know." I hadn't really liked the guy, to be honest.
"Wow, so this is all really new to you, huh?" The doctor smiled again.
M piped in. "Our at-home pregnancy test was Wal-mart brand. Is there any possibility that it's... well... inaccurate?"
The doctor laughed. "Sorry, but no. You're far more likely to get a false negative than a false positive."
She left us with a prescription for pre-natal vitamins and instructions to make an OB/GYN appointment. We sat there staring at each other for fully five minutes after that.
But even as we drove home, the shock was wearing off, and I couldn't stop grinning. "Oh honey!!" I gushed, "We're going to have a baby!!" And M smiled the most loving smile.
In the next few days and weeks, the underlying excitement grew. I went from clueless to can't-get-enough-information-about-pregnancy. I called and made an appointment for my first "pre-natal" checkup (yay)! I cut back my caffeine intake. We attended an Early Pregnancy class at the hospital and learned what I could and couldn't do. I bought a used copy of "What to Expect When You're Expecting" at a bookstore in Vermont while we were there visiting some friends (who we of course told about the pregnancy). I checked out the "Pregnancy for Dummies" DVD series from the library and watched the entire thing in one night. I googled "pregnancy week by week" just about every day, and learned when my baby was changing from the size of a sesame seed to the size of a raisin. We dreamed about everything parents do-- what our baby would look like, whether it was a boy or a girl, what names we liked. We told my parents, my sisters and brothers, M's family, and many of our friends. We told lots of people. "We're going to have a baby! I'm due in April! We're so excited! Everything looks great! I feel great! I don't feel nauseous!"
I didn't feel nauseous.
And then one day, in week 8 of the pregnancy, I noticed it.
When I used the bathroom first thing one morning, I saw the smallest drop of blood. It was tiny, miniscule even, but unmistakably blood. All day I was vigilant, checking again and again, trying not to worry. I saw nothing else for the rest of that day.
But the next morning, there it was again. Just a drop. Then nothing for the rest of that day.
And again the next morning... but a little more than a drop that time.
That was when I told M. "I don't know what to tell you, honey. Maybe call your Mom?"
So I called my Mom. "I'm pretty sure I had some spotting at the beginning of one or two of my pregnancies," my mom (mother of four) said. "But you'd better call your doctor, just to be sure. Try not to worry, hon."
It was Friday evening, but I called my doctor anyway. "This could be one of two things," she said. "Plenty of women have some bleeding at the beginning, and then go on to have successful pregnancies. But spotting can also be a sign of an impending miscarriage."
I gulped. "So what do I do?"
"Unfortunately, since it's Friday night, there's nothing I can do for you right now. If you're still feeling fine as you are now, you're okay to wait out the weekend. I'm making you an appointment for first thing Monday morning-- an ultrasound to check on the baby. In the meantime, if you feel any cramping or pain, or experience any more bleeding than what you've described, I want you to come to the ER immediately."
So we waited out the weekend. I continued to feel no pain, and didn't have any more bleeding. M and I tried to keep busy-- to keep our minds occupied. I went to a movie with my sister. We shopped for groceries. We went to church. People were telling us that things would probably turn out fine, and we believed them, for the most part. But there was that underlying, pins-and-needles, sorrow-being-held-at-bay tension.
Monday morning, M kissed me goodbye and went to work. "I'm sure it's all going to be okay, honey. Call me when you're done."
I remember stopping at a gas station on the way to my appointment. I think the moment I stood there pumping gas was the moment it started to sink in that this pregnancy could be over. Despair started to creep in around the edges of my brain, but still I tried to hold out hope.
-------
-------
To be continued...
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