So today has really been interesting. I am at the tail of a very large project at work, and I really look forward to completing it tomorrow. It's a big deal for me. Of course, as you all know, I also have another big project I'm working on, for which I had my 39-week appt this morning.
So I mention to the doctor that I thought there was a little bit decreased movement from the baby yesterday. This is something that can be very normal as the baby prepares for labor. Sort of the calm before the storm sort of thing. However, she decided to send me for a "non-stress test" - basically, it tests whether the baby is in distress. So I ran off to work for two hours and then it was off to the hospital for the test.
They strap you up and monitor the baby's movement, heartbeat and if there are any contractions. If you don't pass this with flying colors, they move on to a biophysical exam of the baby. Well, the test went well, but now the doctor checking me out is wondering whether I should be admitting because, you know, hey, I'm dilating and other things and contracting and whatnot, and she's thinking maybe it's go time. So I have an ultrasound and that doctor (a different doctor than the non-stress test doctor) made me nervous with all of his questions - one of them was, "when was your last ultrasound?" which made me immediately think he saw something horrible. I said, "a few months ago, why?" and he said, "just asking." Greg thinks he was just being conversational. I, of course, think there was more meaning to it. However, if something was wrong, do you think he would have told me? He would have, right? Something?
Anyway, he was specifically checking to see if there was enough amniotic fluid, and there was, so that was good. Then I got to have my second exam of the day (lucky me! what a lucky girl!) and there was no progression of my dilating, etc from earlier this morning, so, after scheduling another non-stress test for Monday, I went home, with assurances from the doctor that I would probably go into labor before then. Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it. Or, you know, feel it.
Since then, I came home to continue work on my big project. Only, around 4 p.m., I was interrupted by a phone call from my mother telling me I should probably go down to the basement, because according to the news, there's a string of tornadoes heading my way. Seriously. There's this huge weather event happening, one that could pull my house from its foundation, all Wizard of Oz-style, and I don't even know it's going on. Me. The weather girl.
So of course I get annoyed that I have to go try to save my life. I only spent a bit of time downstairs before the frantic weather people indicated that it passed my area. And since then, I've been back up here, at my desk, working, trying not to go into labor.
Non-stress test my ass.
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If he saw something wrong this close to your due date, they likely would have admitted you right there so I wouldn't worry.
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