I had the first of my twice weekly, scheduled, hospital visits this morning. (No concerns, just part of the precautionary schedule they have me on due to Peanut's diagnosis.) Dr. Ballet wants me to get a Non Stress Test twice a week to check the baby's heart rate and reaction to his movements. I also had to have a Biophysical Ultrasound today. This ultrasound measures the baby's muscle tone, body movements, breathing movements and amniotic fluid. The ultrasound technician said that the test results in a maximum score of 8, and our baby scored an 8 out of 8. Yay Peanut- your first A+!!!!
The hospital has been redone since my stay while having Christian. Dr. Kim jokingly refers to it as "The Hyatt". Decor-wise, it is very nice and it does almost have a Hyatt-like quality to it. However, since my appointment took over 3 hours, I got hungry and the nurse ordered me some "food". I put "food" in quotations on purpose. WOW. I was served a brown mush of beef and egg noodles (I think, as I couldn't bring myself to touch it), some white rice, an overcooked mixture of lima beans, zucchini and carrots, a "salad" of iceberg lettuce and a shredded piece of carrot with Ranch dressing, a brownie, a cup of coffee (??Hello??) and a cup of 100% Orange juice. I was starving, so I ate the overcooked veggie mix, the iceberg salad and the white rice. I'm not sure there was a single vitamin in that lunch...oh yeah, I drank the Orange juice, which despite a high fructose level might have been the most nutritious item on the tray. Note to self: Have family bring food to the "Hyatt". The combination of hospital food, narcotics and 36 hours without a meal was exactly the reason I ended up with such horrible constipation after I had Christian almost 3 years ago. (There is a coordinating, desperate, although hilarious, story to go with this experience. But, despite my commitment to a fully honest blog, I think that story requires a few glasses of wine and close girlfriends only. I'm not even fully sure I've shared the details with Charles. The reality is, that I would like to continue a sex life with him and this story takes all of the SEXY, right out of me!)
INSERT REAL LIFE HERE: Christian is splashing in his water table, while yelling "Oh no!", as if he can't stop himself. It is truly funny. I imagine Christian's inner monologue to go something like this: "Oh no, this water is getting me all wet." (splash, splash, splash) "Now I'm cold and there's almost no water left." (splash, splash, splash) Don't you wish you could just do something irrational in normal life and claim, "Oh no!" as if you had no control over it? No serious consequences, just a chance to remark on the ridiculousness of your situation? Here comes Christian.........."Mommy, I spilled." (As the water is drips from his eyelashes.) "Yes, baby, you did. You sure did." :)
Back to my hospital visit...It wasn't stressful or scary at all. In fact, it was kind of nice to be taken care of. Because the truth is, I am stupidly independent. I spend so much time trying to be organized and competent that I don't ever put out that she-needs-some-help vibe. Thus, Charles has never really gone through those crazy pregnant lady craving requests, and has never really tripped over himself to open a door or lift something for me. (Mind you, he does these things- mostly jovially, when asked but not on basic impulse alone.) So, it was nice to have someone say, "Put your feet up, relax. Do you need anything? Oh you're hungry? I'll bring you some "food"... well, the impulse was very nice. The ultrasound tech was also very nice, and kinda cute, so it wasn't bad eye candy to enjoy while waiting for test results. He almost seemed to be hitting on me... I got the, "How many weeks pregnant are you?? 32? Wow. You look great!", "You're 38 years old. Wow- I would never have guessed it.", "You know women who are smaller and haven't gained as much weight are easier to get a good ultrasound read on." Now, stop. You're making me blush. Obviously, this is his job to make us preggers feel good- so, he is very good at his job. It wasn't the most exciting or stimulating 3 hours of my life, but as a pregnant, busy Mom, teacher, trainer and event business owner, I might have to just acknowledge the silver lining.
The only damper on the appointment was that no one could understand why a youngish- looking, fit, pregnant woman at 32 weeks of pregnancy would be at the hospital for these tests. I had to explain about 5 times: The baby has Down syndrome, so my doctor wants the testing as a precautionary measure. The good news is that it wasn't all that hard to say anymore. And nurses have seen it all, so there were no super shocked faces, no I'm Sorry's, just an understanding. More silver lining, because what this meant to me is that I really am coming to acceptance. I'm sure I'll get waves of emotions to sort through once our little Peanut is born, but for now, I think I'm in a place of acceptance. At least for today, I am.