We went to the doctor yesterday for my 29 week check-up. It was a totally normal and boring check up, with a few added bonuses.
Bonus #1-I saw my old counselor in the waiting room, and for a split second it was very awkward in that "should I say hi, will she say hi, of course she won't say hi because she isn't supposed to because she was my counselor and they don't say hi, would she remember me if I said hi?" kind of way. No one said hi.
Bonus #2-I am mastering the art of peeing in a cup. No joke. I didn't get a drop of pee on myself! And it's only taken me 29 weeks to gain that skill.
Bonus #3-I weigh 144 pounds. What the crap? I blame the donuts and the cookies and the poptarts and the cheetos and the cheese burritos and...now I am embarrassed. It's also a little too late to worry because weight gain at this point is inevitable.
Bonus #4-I sort of love my doctor. He is very tall and kind and has a very calm voice. He also lets us make our own decisions, but makes sure we are educated. I might have a crush on him like I had a crush on my childhood doctor, Dr. Fenzi. (I named a stuffed clown after Dr. Fenzi when I was about 5).
After peeing in a cup and doing the blood pressure/weight thing Rusty and I went to the exam room to wait for the doctor. He came, we chatted for a minute and then we got ready to listen to the heartbeat. I had mentioned that I had been worried because the baby hadn't been moving very much for a few days. Dr. said that it was probably ok, that movement changes and honestly didn't seem worried about it. So he lubed up the doppler and found the heartbeat. We heard, "whoosh whoosh blurp whoosh" then again "whoosh whoosh blurp whoosh" and one more time "whoosh whoosh blurp whoosh".
Dr said, "Well the heart rate is 130, which is good, but did you hear the blurp?" (He didn't actually call it a blurp, I just can't remember what he called it.) I did hear the blurp. "Well" he said, "Its probably nothing, its not anything to worry about. It's probably a Premature Atrial Contraction, which happens all the time, people drink too much caffeine...(I blanked out here) So, since you mentioned the decreased movement and since we heard that three times, we'll go ahead and do an ultrasound, just to check. Probably nothing to worry about, but since we have the technology to check, we should do it."
That's pretty much what he said, and while he was in the room I was totally fine, totally calm, totally mellow. Then he left and my brain translated what I had heard into "Your baby's heart doesn't know how to beat. We're going to check things out, and be prepared for the worst." The worst being, of course, that the baby was dead. Why are pregnant women so morbid? My eyes wanted to well up, I wanted to cry, but I didn't. Rusty was there and was very chipper and said it was ok, and I didn't cry. Then we went to the ultra-sound room and watched the baby's heart and everything was fine. Perfectly normal. No problems. Dr was very cheerful and fine, and if something was wrong I know he would have been not cheerful and fine, he would have said something. I know that.
Then today, I talked to my mom about the heart thing and the moving thing, and she said if the baby doesn't move for four hours, to call the doctor. Crap. There have certainly been times the baby didn't move for four hours or longer. Crap crap crap. Then I got onto babycenter.com and read about kick counting. I read that I should take time everyday to pay attention to the baby's movements, and if it takes two hours to feel ten distinct moves, to call the doctor. Crap. Crap crap crap.
So I laid down on the couch, drank some orange juice, eyes wanting to well up again, and waited for the baby to move. I felt ten moves in about twenty minutes.
But none of these things, Dr's reassurance, mom's reassurance, ten moves in twenty minutes, none of them have eased that stupid feeling in my gut that makes me freak out and think the worst. I know I shouldn't worry about this stuff, I just can't help it. How am I going to make it through the next 11 weeks? 11 more weeks of this?
And then the really scary thought, even if something isn't wrong with the baby right now, sometime in this baby's life something will go wrong and it will be scary, even scarier than blurp heartbeats. How am I supposed to handle knowing that as much as I want to I can't protect the baby from everything? I haven't been a particularly emotional pregnant woman up to this point, but shoot, I'm all mush and worry now.