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07 May 2011
Last month I began a series about Speedy's birth that really took on a life of it's own. I thought I would save these last few posts for Mother's Day weekend. Thanks to everyone who has stuck with me on this series, the comments and emails have been wonderful to read. It make me so glad I decided to stick with blogging. I just love you all so much!
"I can't be in labor," I told me husband. "My water hasn't broken." 
"Are you sure?" he asked.
I thought I was, but then I thought back to not quite two weeks ago when I was rushed into the doctor's office because I was pretty sure my water had broken.
"Every time I stand up, I feel wet," I told the Christy, my doctor's nurse.
"Well, honey, you have been pregnant for awhile. It's hard to hold that bladder when you've got a baby sitting on it," she said.
After a little laughter, I said, "Well, that was my first thought too. But this has a different smell to it than urine. It's kind of chemical, bleach-like smell."
Apparently something in that sentence was code word for "freak out, put pregnant woman on hold, then return with instructions to get to the office immediately and try to find someone to drive."
I felt a more embarrassed than worried, so I drove myself. What if all this time I really was peeing myself? I guess it's not out of the realm of possible things that could happen to a pregnant woman. I knew it was still too early to have the baby, Dr. Tony said 36 weeks was the "safe time" to have him, 37 for good measure. On top of all that, all I wanted was to avoid being labeled as the woman who freaks out when she pees herself.
I called work, told them I would be late and continued my drive to the doctor's office.
I was immediately shuffled into a patient room, told to disrobe from the waste down and Dr. Tony would be in soon.
When Dr. Tony came in, he didn't look too worried, but he was also not making small talk. He did an exam and a few swab tests, explaining along the way what he was looking for and asking me to describe what happened.
No matter how comfortable I felt with Dr. Tony, nothing is quite as awkward as a conversation taking place with a person whose head you can barely see over your bulging belly while your legs are stuck in stirrups. So, I awkwardly addressed all my answers to his nurse who was standing next to me. Thankfully, she smiled politely and nodded as if she was actually invited to this conversation.
When he was done, he told me to sit tight. His nurse helped me off the examination bed so I could get dressed.
The swab tests came back negative, but Dr. Tony told me not to go to work just I case.
This scene played through my head in a flash the night after Dr. Tony's phone call. Maybe it was foreshadowing of something to come or maybe it was a reminder of my fear of being one of those women who are sent home from the hospital because of a "false alarm," but either way I used this memory to talk myself and try to talk my husband out of the idea that I in fact was in labor.
"Honey, let's just wait till my water breaks. I don't want to be sent home because this might be just nerves," I told Sweet-D.
"Who cares if you're sent back home?" he asked. "Better safe than sorry."
That was a familiar phrase. So I hesitantly agreed and we headed for the car. I was so sure it was nothing that I didn't even grab my hospital bag.
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The stories are great. Keep them coming!
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