PANTS. Some people use the expression “I wear a lot of hats around here!” meaning they do a lot of different jobs. Personally I look terrible in hats, so I like to say I wear a lot of pants. I look GREAT in pants. Therefore, that’s the expression I use. I have Mom pants, good idea pants, cleaning lady pants….you get the picture. Yesterday at our 12 week midwife appointment I had to put on my “brave pants”.
ABS AGAIN. We’re back to the whole “your abs are too strong and I can’t feel your uterus” thing. Oh, and weighing myself is totally on the honor system again. (YES!) I guess the lucky honor system was kind of cancelled out by the fact that the second we stepped foot in her office Brady loaded his diaper with the stinkiest crap you’ve ever smelled. And I forgot the diaper bag. Guess I didn’t have my “remember pants” on at home. So for a full hour of uncomfortable examinations I also had to smell the wafting odor of baby crap. Granted, it was my own baby’s crap which made it tolerable….but still….
Where was I?
Oh yeah, my inhumanly strong abs.
The midwife and her assistant both tried repeatedly to locate the top of my uterus. After 15 minutes with no luck and then not being able to find a fetal heartbeat I was told that maybe my fetus had stopped growing and this pregnancy wouldn’t be viable. BRAVE PANTS ACTIVATE! I held it together. Thanked the midwife. Wrote a check for the appointment. Took my order for a rush ultrasound and loaded myself and Brady’s load into the car. Oh, I’m SO BRAVE.
And then I fell apart. Suddenly this unplanned pregnancy that I was totally annoyed about became the most important thing in the whole world. How could I have cursed this pregnancy because it would interfere with the CrossFit Open?! Who does things like that?! I started thinking about how awful it would be to have been a transporter of a dead baby for the last 12 weeks. I sent off some tearful text messages because with the giant lump in my throat, I couldn’t even speak. Bill and I rode in silence holding hands all the way from Libertyville to McHenry.
MOMENT OF TRUTH. So there I was on the ultrasound table with 32oz of water in my bladder, ready to burst. Who made up that rule anyways? Whose bladder can hold that much? Definitely not mine. I was so full that the tech had me do a half pee maneuver to empty out a little. Once the images popped up on the screen I saw a little face, two tiny arms and the flickering of a strong heart. Baby looked peaceful and amazing. After a few seconds baby started wiggling around and bringing his tiny hand up to his mouth. (I say his but we don’t actually know the sex) Hot tears started streaming down my face. Baby was alive, strong, and measuring EXACTLY how far along he should be. Now I had on my relieved pants.
EXPLANATION. I went into the appointment knowing that some people can’t hear a heartbeat at 12 weeks, but I didn’t want to be “that lady”. I didn’t want to be the one who didn’t hear the heartbeat. The explanation I received for the whole ordeal was that my uterus is tipped backwards and that’s why it was difficult to locate. *shrugs* I guess nobody told my uterus it needs to have good posture.