Yo,
My wife is pregnant, and apparently the universe decided this one needed to be on ‘Hard Mode.’
Unfocussed Assessments…
The last one – in her mid-30’s – was a piece of cake… although hilariously, they kept referring to it as a “Geriatric Pregnancy.”
She hated that.
Now she’s over 40, and when we asked the new OB if they still use that term, she goes:
“Oh no, of course not… we call it an ‘Elderly Pregnancy.’”
They can call it whatever the hell they want because this one has had a bunch of issues.
The first problem was crazy. We were just minding our own business when she went to the bathroom… and found a bowl full of blood.
This freaked us out something fierce and kick started a mad scramble to the labor and delivery unit at the hospital. We have had multiple miscarriages, and the bowl of blood is the common denominator, and NEVER a good sign… especially at 32 weeks.
“FUCK,” I was thinking as we weaved in and out of traffic… valiantly attempting to talk us through a visualization of this blood somehow miraculously making sense in the grand scheme of things.
After a week of chaos, multiple appointments, and overnight hospital stays it was diagnosed as a “partial placental abruption,” which is a serious condition that can lead to preterm delivery or fetal distress.
Thankfully – miraculously? – everything worked out. I had just returned from a week-long retreat across the country so the timing was very fortuitous… I couldn’t imagine her soloing that madness.
After the first bout of bleeding there were several less intense episodes that have thankfully been resolved.
You know what hasn’t been resolved???
All the other crap… she has gestational diabetes, gestational hypertension, and nonstop contractions. They’re intense but since they don’t dilate her cervix (my goodness I don’t know what the hell a cervix is — I don’t let them dilate my eyes)… we just continue the waiting game.
We’re at 35 weeks. We’ve been to the hospital six times and stayed overnight four of them.
Mercifully they have scheduled a C-section (GAH!) for a few weeks from now… she is very ready for this to all be over.
Anyway, we had to come back for a 7th visit (high blood pressure). My poor wife is lying in bed in triage… she has been poked and prodded to a bruised, bloody pulp.
I feel awful for her.
She had to give blood for the third time this week and just had a painful and invasive swab of her private parts.
They just finished… when the staff left, she wiped the sweat off her forehead and asked me, exhausted, to please get the ChapStick out of her purse…
“No,” I said.
Quackenbush