Hysterical Pregnancy

Well, obviously baby news sells. I had more readers yesterday than I've ever had and doubled my previous record. But, I promise not to make this some gross blog about my pregnancy aches and pains and etc.

However, I do have to share my first moment of pregnancy hysteria. I think all first-time pregnant women have these moments. (Except those lunatics who go nine months and deliver a baby without ever knowing they were pregnant. I'm not sure how that happens. I don't even recognize my body or its actions anymore, let alone think that what is going on here is part of my normal bodily functions. If I wasn't pregnant, I'd be convinced I was dying. I'd go to the doctor either way.)

Mine, embarrassingly, happened in the first week I knew I was pregnant. I took my home test on Tuesday, confirmed on Thursday and made my first call to the doctor's emergency line on Sunday afternoon. I know, I'm a champion hysteric.

The problem was (and still is, unfortunately) those abdominal cramps I mentioned yesterday. As soon as I found out I was pregnant, I started having abdominal pains. They weren't that bad, just occasional cramping when I'd lie down to go to sleep or stand up after sitting for a long time. I know now that they are referred to as "round ligament pain" and are caused by the ligaments in your body going all Mr. Fantastic in preparation for everything in your torso getting mashed to one side by an invading force (also known as a baby).

The cramps were totally manageable until Saturday night, when I awoke from a sound sleep feeling like my internal organs were trying to become external. I went into the bathroom, thinking I was going to be sick. Then I started to shake and sweat (I think this was just a stress reaction). At that point, I did what any logical woman would do. I hollered for my husband. Tony staggered into the bathroom, bleary-eyed and terrified and immediately grabbed The Pregnancy Bible and started thumbing through the pages, trying to find an answer for why his wife had suddenly become this shreiking, crying monster at three in the morning. Eventually, things got better and I went back to sleep. I think Tony was so traumatized he had to have three valium and a drink before he could rest again.

On Sunday afternoon, the pain returned and I moved to plan B. I called my mom. Her response to my questions (am I okay? can I take some painkillers?) was this: "Lacy, it has been 29 years since I gave birth and back then, I was just winging it."

Super. Always good to know your mother was playing it fast and loose when pregnant with you.

After that very helpful advice, I broke down and called the emergency hotline, where they THREATEN TO CHARGE YOU IF YOUR CALL ISN'T REALLY AN EMERGENCY. So now on top of the abdominal pain, I'm feeling anxiety about whether my doctor would classify this as an emergency or just go ahead and charge me $75 for being stupid. My message sounded something like this: "Um, hi. This is Lacy Coutsoftides. (sob) I'm five weeks pregnant and (sob) having some really painful abdominal cramps. (big sniffle, sob) I just don't know if this is normal or if I'm having a situation here. (sob sob sob) It would be really great if someone could call me back. Thanks so much!"

Five minutes later, the doctor called me back. She's my favorite doctor because she dispenses information like this: "The first thing I want you to do is take a deep breath. You are fine." and "I want you to chug water like you used to chug beer in college, Lacy."

See, awesome doctor. She also told me to schedule an ultrasound for the next morning - incidentally, the first day Tony and I were in business. Sigh.

But I did. I scheduled that ultrasound, went in and to my delight and surprise, had to have another trans-vaginal ultrasound, the kind where the ultrasound tech jams a wand up into your nethers and waves it around while you try not to cry and your husband tries not to vomit on her, you, the ultrasound machine and the other people in the waiting room. Superdeduper.

After that joyful experience, we saw another doctor, who assured me that she could DETERMINE NOTHING FROM THIS ULTRASOUND and I'd have to wait until my regular one in two weeks to know if I was okay and the baby was growing at the right pace. So, I drove forty-five minutes to the office, waited a total of two hours in the waiting room, got violated by yet another ultrasound tech and drove forty-five minutes back for exactly no information.

Needless to say, I cried the whole way home.

But Tony and I are being optimistic. We go in on the 5th for the official ultrasound (OUTSIDE MY BODY, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!) and I'm sure everything will be fine then. If not, I'll just cry all the way home again. I'm good at that.