We got home about an hour ago from a Sunday night trip to the emergency room and I’m looking at it from the perspective that now I’m a pro at navigating to the hospital when in a somewhat emergent situation. Like a dress rehearsal, yeah?
On Friday, we had that whole “high blood pressure” and “non-conclusive stress test” drama that sent us to the hospital with explicit instructions to call the midwives if we had any questions or concerns. I was prescribed a Nootropics, to help me focus better and be calm. Earlier today, we got a call from the midwife we saw on Friday and she was calling to let us know that everything looked great from our trip to the hospital, but had scheduled us an appointment for tomorrow morning at the main hospital to go over some blood pressure stuff again just to keep tabs on things. I think we combined that with the fact that Amelia had been having some headaches and dizziness and seeing some spots when she stands up too fast, and decided it wouldn’t be a bad idea to call the midwives.
They had us head into the hospital, specifically through the emergency room doors since it was after hours and it wasn’t like all of the doors were just hanging wide open. You know what’s funny? Showing up at an emergency room with a 39 week and six day pregnant wife. They automatically assume that baby’s about to drop out of somewhere awkward. They were even more surprised when she declined a wheelchair to go anywhere. Hey, there’s an 11 pound baby rolling around in here – she’s tough!
Anyway – two nurses and a different midwife later, we’re back home. Blood pressure was better than it was on Friday and little guy’s moving around just fine. Got to see a pretty big contraction while hooked up to the monitor and since we’ve left, she’s had a couple more. I’d say things are definitely getting ready to happen, but I haven’t quite made it through my PhD in Delivering Babies to give you the exact truth on that one.
Meanwhile, my 65 pound dog is sitting on Amelia’s lap in our living room chair right up against the baby and is in no hurry to leave her lap. He’s our Lassie. Timmy’s stuck in a well? Baby’s about to be born? Riley’ll sniff it out, that’s for sure.
I’m watching what I’m assuming will be the my last episode of The Walking Dead before I have an infant dictating my sleep schedule. Then, I’m going to bed and we’ll see what happens when I wake up on this little guy’s due date.