June 3, 2010

Hiding: Day 48 -- OB appt. & "Mom's Sanitarium"

Saw the OB today. Almost cancelled because this morning was the worst by far -- I think because Miner finally made it home so his presence was heavy and adversarial.

Couldn't tolerate a moment of it, so I called Mom crying, asking if I could come rest for a few days. Unbeknownst to me, she hopped in the car right away intent on coming to my rescue and sweeping me back to Leesville.  So here I sit.

Miner intended to go with me to the appt., but I asked him not to, told him it would only add more stress. He relented.

As I was walking out the door, Mom called to say she was meeting me at the hospital.

I arrived before she did, and I have to say, the waiting room almost killed me. Packed with young couples, ladies yakking on their cell phones (naturally I could hear BOTH sides of the conversation), and a couple out-of-control toddlers running around, knocking things over and pulling things down. Loud. Chaotic. Encroaching. Torturous. I thought my head might split open. All I could do was sit there with my eyes squeezed shut, wringing my hands and envisioning the strange boiler-bladder I invented in my head, into which I funnel all stress and anxiety. It didn't help much. Especially overhearing one of the ladies "sharing the news" with one of her girlfriends who was squealing and laughing on the other end of the line.

Somehow, I made it through an hour of that. I ALMOST went to the window to reschedule, but never did. Mom showed up just as the nurse called me back for vitals. She was thrilled to see me, even under such awful circumstances, and she agreed to wait while I saw the doctor alone.

Weight was 121 pounds. (That's a difference of 16 pounds (or "libs," as Squeak pronounced the abbreviation at Pirate's Cove Mini-Golf in Hot Springs (because Pirate Blackbeard was 6'4" and weighed 250 lbs ("libs") according to the informational plaque on Hole 14))). Blood pressure was 100/71.

Had to go back through memory and recall all five kids' birthdates, birth weights, methods of delivery, and places of birth. I could only guess on the weights.

Due date is September 25th, unless the ultrasound reveals differently.

Dr. R***** was well-paced, thorough, acutely receptive to what I told him. He was on-board right away with my desire for a homebirth and seemed bewildered when I said it was "up to him" whether or not I'd go forward with it (I went on to explain the potential complications of my Depression and thyroid disease).

He performed a doppler. Took him a minute to find the baby's heartbeat, but find it he did. I almost said something witty about that confirming I am indeed pregnant, but the coy remark didn't make it to my throat. I was too mystified to have heard this little one's "pana."

And, too, I realized how little I've bonded with this child because I've been so buried in my own misery. Just like what happened with Bunny. All the more reason to claw my way out of this hole -- so that distant relationship doesn't happen again.

I'll see Dr. R***** again in two weeks.

Went for labs. A whopping $100 per vial of blood (if you break it down that way, and the phlebotomist took SIX). But, my thyroid panel was included, and that's most important. I may have the results as early as Monday...

...when I'll be going in for the ultrasound. Miner won't be here for that, but maybe I'll get a printout or something to send to him. And I'll have to remember before it's too late: "Don't reveal the gender, please."

Wednesday is my psych appointment. GAWD, I can't wait for that. She'll review my TSH thyroid results, and she'll prescribe hormone replacement pills and an antidepressant for my Depression and Anxiety. I'm HOPING she'll be able to prescribe a mild sedative I could take on an as-needed basis to get me through until the SSRI's kick in, which could be anywhere from two to four weeks, assuming I'm not dead by then. (joking)

As soon as I have my new scripts, I'm high-tailing it to see the midwife, if she'll still have me.

So after all that medical voodoo today, the account is about $$$ emptier (could've choked up a lung writing out those checks, including the prescription for "bigger-better" prenates). I take solace in the fact that's $$$ paid toward the total cost of labor and delivery, which we're figuring to be about $3000 total.

And now I'm in the little full-sized bed in my old bedroom, in the soft darkness and silence. Mom is here to help take care of me. Stepdad is here to make delicious soups. And I'm far, far from home so I won't be a burden or thorn to anyone, and they won't be a burden or thorn to me.

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