Today was a long day.
Almost thirty-eight weeks pregnant and fighting off a headcold puts a little mumma behind the eight ball somewhat.
Then there's the two small boys to consider. Geez, they can run.
And the end of daylight savings has thrown me, too.
To summarise, wah wah wah, blah blah blah.
This morning I was at the hospital by 8.30am for my appointment with the obstetrician at 9am.
Saw the obstetrician at 10.15am.
Mentioned I had tested my wee while waiting and there appeared to be protein present. This has never happened to me before. He ordered further testing for that although he thought it would be fine given I have no history of pre-eclampsia and my blood pressure was perfect.
He did a stretch and sweep (after I stupidly mentioned it) which almost made me cry.
But I couldn't stay mad at him because he was the prettiest doctor you ever did see. A Ken Doll/Clark Kent mash-up. I hope he isn't around when it's time to deliver this baby. I think I'll get stage fright with him all up in my business.
Next stop, foetal monitoring. So I move my car and grab a bite to eat first then settle in to listen to that gorgeous gallop of my baby's heartbeat.
An hour later and I was still there and that heart was galloping like a Melbourne Cup hopeful. Heart rate maintained at around 175 and kicking like a champ.
Maybe she liked Dr Ken Kent as well because she was waaaay too excited.
So they sent me for a walk.
"Come back in half an hour," they said, "Hopefully, Baby will calm down a bit and we can get a normal reading."
So I did that.
When I returned, Little Lady had indeed calmed down and the heart rate was good.
Until it wasn't.
Apparently, there was a big dip when I had a fairly strong contraction.
So which was it? Too high or too low?
At some point, you start to wonder whether all this monitoring is a good idea. Erring on the side of caution – yes, of course, I understand that and in many ways, I find it comforting. But then again, if you were to monitor baby 24/7 through an entire pregnancy, would you not see lots of crazy shit? Anomalies that in the end were just that, an unusual occurrence that didn't amount to anything in the end?
They decided to let me go home on the proviso that I return for further monitoring in the morning. Then they did a quick ultrasound to check my amniotic fluid levels.
Levels were great and baby appears to still be a girl. Happy days. Didn't get to see her little face though which was disappointing for me but actually promising because it means that she had turned from her posterior position earlier that morning.
I finally got out of there after 1pm. And although I had really been sitting around the entire time, I felt shattered.
Listening to heart beats and watching scans is lovely. But when it goes on and on, anxiety starts creeping, creeping. Which is exhausting. A suspended state of wondering if everything is okay will leave anyone in need of a good lie down.
Thankfully, the boys were with Daddy for the day. I can't imagine how much harder this would have been with them in tow.
So, back again tomorrow. And providing Little Lady and I don't run into McDreamy, hopefully our heart rates will stay steady and we can go back to assuming everything is just peachy.
Please let everything be just peachy.