Still Recovering

I really, incredibly love being pregnant. I love feeling the baby move. I'm in love with my belly, and would spend all day gazing at it in the mirror if allowed. I love reading about baby stuff, picking out baby stuff (even though we're trying hard not to buy too much of it), thinking up names (still no progress on that front), and generally daydreaming about my baby girl.

My baby girl, who is completely fine and healthy, by the way. Just in case you get worried further down in this post.

All that being said, last week was TOUGH.

It started on Tuesday, when I had my latest doctor's appointment. I had an ultrasound and everything looked great (I'll post my favorite ever ultrasound picture in the near future). We were able to see her feet just fine (the reason for the ultrasound), and even though she was completely curled up in a little ball we were able to see everything and she's more adorable than ever (and I can't believe how big she is, too!). The only weird thing was that the ultrasound kind of hurt when she went over the left side of my belly. This is apparently because the baby was a little cramped in there and all balled up on the left side. A nurse told me that once my belly stretches a little more (which has since happened) she would stretch out too (which also seems to have happened).

Then I had the sit down and talk with the doctor part of the appointment, which for some reason always makes me ridiculously nervous. I'm apparently terrified of doctors after some bad doctor visits a few years ago. Anyway, the nurse comes in and gives me all kinds of stuff; glucola for my glucose test in a few weeks, my lab slip, directions, and a pamphlet on being Rh negative. I have to have a Rhogam shot along with my blood draw for my glucose test. And that's when the (completely unnecessary) panicking set in.

The pamphlet she gave me is very informative and gives all possible scenarios. While this didn't bother me too much at first, it apparently set in over night, because I woke up crying on Wednesday morning. I also woke up with a weird line of pain running up the side of my belly, about 2 inches to the right of my belly button. Figuring it would pass, I went through my day ignoring it.

As soon as I got in the car Wednesday evening to head home from work, the crying started up again. I cried over everything - what to have for dinner, all the Heath Ledger talk, worry about the baby, gas pain, being tired, etc.

I cried all night Wednesday night, into Thursday morning. I managed to clean myself up for the all day meeting I had on Thursday, but the pain continued and I started to get worried. Add this to the fact that she hadn't kicked much since the previous Sunday, and I was starting to freak the heck out.

I cried from the time I left my meeting Thursday until Friday morning. I cleaned myself up and went into the office. Then I called my OB's office to talk to the nurse about the weird pain. She said it was probably nothing (especially since the ultrasound, barely 3 days before was textbook perfect) and asked if I'd like to come in to hear the baby's heartbeat just for reassurance.

I started crying and said yes. So, I left the office, cried all the way to the OB's office, cried at the OB's office (while hearing her heartbeat at a steady 152), had to sit through a counseling session with a med student who kind of smelled like he had gas (lovely), a talk with one of the OBs from the practice who wanted to put me on medication for my depression (it had only been 3 days of weepiness and I'm pregnant for cripes sake! - this part pissed me off royally) and send me to a psychiatrist.

Then I went home and napped, and haven't cried since.

Aaron pointed out that I was completely fine until the nurse handed me the info about being Rh negative, and that was probably the big part of what I was worried about. He's right, and even though I know everything will most likely be fine, it was freaking me out.

We had a lovely, quiet weekend and I'm doing much better. I'm sure all these pregnancy hormones don't help at all, and I'm kind of a crier and a worrywart anyway. The baby kicking like it was her job all weekend was the kind of reassurance I needed, too.