Thursday morning Greg accompanied me to a long and chaotic doctor's appointment. I was supposed to see a "specialist" because my baby is measuring too small. Sometimes I swear I don't even know if I believe in half the stuff doctors say we need to do. It seems like they're always changing their minds. First red wine was bad for us now it's good for us now it's bad again. You know? I'm not saying I blame doctors. I don't expect them to know everything. But I also think I should be able to use my discretion and follow or not follow a doctor's orders based on how I feel or think about a situation.
For example, our baby doc said a week ago that I am measuring two weeks too small and that my baby is measuring in the 4th percentile. This could be because the placenta isn't doing its job right and babe's not getting the nutrients she needs. That's enough to send anyone on an insane freak out, right? But the thing is, in my heart I knew everything was fine. My period was irregular before I got pregnant so it could easily be that our due date is a little off. I have been measuring "small" my entire pregnancy, but I've still been growing at a normal rate, just always a bit behind. I feel great. My blood sugar is normal, my fluids are normal. I am a small person and Greg is no giant himself. So my intuition told me I was just fine. I didn't want to see a specialist, I didn't want another doctor's appointment, I just wanted to trust myself that everything was going to be just A-ok
But then I started second guessing myself. What if there is a problem and I ignore it and cause serious complications for my baby? Also, this is not only my child. It is Greg's too, (so he claims... I have my doubts) and Greg wanted to get the wee one checked out.
So that's how I found myself in a hospital on Thursday morning. We waited for half an hour in labor and delivery before the people figured out we were at the wrong place and sent us down to radiology. But first we had to "check in"- which basically meant get all my insurance info and make sure I can pay for my services. We waited at least half an hour before they even had us sign in. It was beyond frustrating.
By the time we went back to radiology, it was 10:00. We signed in at the desk and then waited. And waited. And waited. If Greg hadn't been sitting my side, I would have walked right out of the hospital. It was just such chaos, and I felt like the whole thing was totally useless. Even 2048 got pretty old by that point.
Finally, at 10:45, we were taken back. An ultrasound technician came in, poked my baby something fierce, and then got the special doctor. He came in, probed some more, and said baby is totally fine, she's in the 28th percentile and we have nothing to worry about and don't need to come back. We're likely a bit off on my due date, and I may deliver later than I think.
And that was it.
I am definitely relieved that it is nothing major. Thanks to all of you who left kind comments on my blog post last weekend, or who left sweet messages on my instagram post. Ya'll are the best. Everything's ok around these parts and the lesson of the day is next time I'm following my gut and not showing up for "special" doctor's appointments.
Amen and amen.
I spent the rest of the weekend in St. George, where the sun is blistering and the pools are many. My mom, a few of my siblings, and some cousins were spending a long weekend there for no other reason than that it's spring and we like each other and why don't we all go do something fun in the nice weather? Greg had shows every night and a matinee on Saturday so I left him on his lonesome (R.I.P. Greg! Or something!) and enjoyed two straight days of sun, pool, tennis, cards. It was great!
My uncle told me that I am starting to look "a little pg" (because apparently we're not allowed to say pregnant around these parts) and I slept like a freaking baby in the softest bed around. Enough of a vacation recap for you?
And now. Pictures!
^^My sister and her husband. I thought they were pretty adorable both reading by the pool.
And that's a wrap. I never take as many pictures as I should, but sometimes you're just enjoying the moment too much, you know?
Now it's back to school for me. Nine more days of teaching, a buttload of essays to grade, graduation and then I'M A FREE WOMAN! This is the time of year when I realize how absolutely great it is to be a teacher.