I decided to go with the midwife at Emanuel. The hospital that is much, much easier to get to and the appointments that are here in town. So long trips to DQ on the way home from doctor appointments. I hope I can survive without you.
This one. This first one. I have never been a hotter mess than I can remember. Except maybe one other time this week when I walked C to school in pajama pants, two day-old mom bun and wearing Steven's coat because I couldn't find mine. Stringing three kids along behind me. Talk about walking mess. Pregnancy hot mess. It's a real thing.
My appointment was at 10:40. I finally got called back to the room at 11:10. 5 minutes short of half an hour. Half my appointment time - done and gone. At 11:30 I started to panic. I had to get C from school at noon and the midwife wasn't even in there yet. And I had stuff to get done. A physical, a pap smear, some small medical history, hear the baby's heart beat and a pee test. The midwife walks in at 11:35 and I flat out tell her I am in a panic because I need to do a pick-up at noon and she's got 5 minutes before I predicted this appointment being over. She did a great job at just being like, "We'll get what we can done and if we don't get it all in, we can do some more next appointment." Which, of course, isn't an option for me. I get in and I get things done. So we get started right in and she promises to have me out of there at 11:50.
Which totally would have been realistic, after all, if things were to go smoothly. But of course, there would be no blog post and no mortifying story if that were the case. So we begin.
Medical history stuff first. I swear I have filled this information out at least 3x in the past month. But what-evs.
Physical. The midwife is not used to the room and opens all the drawers and cupboards looking for a sheet. She pulls out a little napkin used for setting tools on or whatever and comments, "Oh, that will not do. That won't cover anything up." And has to go out for a sheet. When she gets back she's all like, "Hop on down. I'll hold this up for you to take your bottoms off" And bam, done. That part was really nice. Instead of having her leave the room while I undress all the way and then have to wait for her to come back while I sit shivering in a paper gown. Everything goes fine. We talk a little about breastfeeding while she does all the feeling and touching and our conversation ends with, "Well, hopefully third time is the charm for breast feeding. You've got great breasts." I think I would have been horrified to hear that two babies ago. But now I am all like, "Dang straight, I do!" and smile at the nice compliment that to me sounds as natural as, "You have nice eyes."
Heart Beat. She feels up my stomach, trying to get a gauge for where the baby is. Gets the jelly out and her doppler and starts listening around. And listening. And listening. And listening. And then, "Did they find the heartbeat last time?" Which would have totally freaked me out. And probably would have, except that my stomach has grown by leaps and bounds and there's no way all that is fluid. Plus, I would never admit it, but I think I have felt little kicks. But they were awhile ago and they aren't consistent. Mostly I was freaked out about the time this was taking and hoping it wasn't 12 already. She finally found the heart beat, did a quick count and confirmed everything was just fine. She was probably more relieved than I was.
Pap smear. This was very quick, painless and she probably talked too much for what I would have preferred, but it was fine. And then she's all like, "And how about your kagels? Can you flex those for me?" And then we spent what felt like 5 minutes trying to engage those and I really have no idea what the heck I was doing - but not doing it right and we gave up with a reassuring, "I bet you're really good at pushing. You're using those muscles and they are strong."
And then the pee test. At this point I am so stressed about the time. I have been poked and prodded in all the places. She gives me the cup and the instructions and I sit on the toilet for like 5 minutes. Nothin'. Absolutely nothing. So I get up and wash my hands. Dab my face with cool water. Leave the water running. I am in a such a fluster that I drop the cup in the toilet. I scoop it up real quick and dry it off with a paper towel. There was no way I was spending more time finding someone to get me a new cup and waiting for them to print my sticker name out again and all that. Dried it out and got a cm of pee into it.
The nurse was outside the door with my papers and I told her about my limited pee and she was so nice and just smiled and said, "Well, we'll do what we can." I think she thought I was exaggerating at how much was in there. And off I went. Running out the door at 12:05 after all those added little time-suckers and my pee incident.
One of the foster moms that we are sharing this sibling unit with was picking up one of her other girls from head start and called asking if she could help by bringing C home. I had to quick-explain that I was at an appointment just a few minutes from her house and if she just took C to her house, I would meet her there. Thank goodness for friends who watch out for each other!
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