Yesterday was a typical day. I woke up on time, got ready for work, made the bed, fed the cats, had breakfast, drove to the office, sat through meetings, taught Junior Achievement at the local middle school, ate lunch, crossed things off my to do list, the usual. I even managed to tap out a quick post about the silly things I'm afraid of.
It was a nice, typical day.
Until 3pm rolled around.
Around 3pm, I stood up from my desk for my 90th trip to the bathroom. As I stood up, I noticed a familiar gushing sensation for down below. I chalked it up to the typical pregnancy snail trail and headed to the loo.
I sat down, did my thing and went to wipe. Before I even saw the toilet paper, I knew something wasn't right. I could smell it. I stared the paper crumbled in my hand is disbelief. Blood, lots of blood.
I got fresh paper and wiped again, blood. More then the last wipe.
No, No, No, this is not happening.
I kept wiping and praying, wiping and praying. The blood kept coming. I looked at my underwear. Of all the days to pick black panties. They were soaked.
No, no, no, I cannot do this.
I took a deep breathe and got myself together. I knew I needed to call the doctor.
What's the emergency extension again? Do I call Mr. Berg first? Is my co-worker in our shared office space?
By the grace of God, my co-worker was gossiping in another person's office. My office my clear and quiet. I dialed the doctor's office with shaky hands and pressed 6 for the emergency extension.
A woman named Julie answered the line. I was immediately calmed by her voice. I explained who I was, that I was 16 weeks pregnant, had never had bleeding issues before and that I was suddenly exploding it everywhere.
"Oh dear." she sighed into the phone "That is not good."
Obviously, Julie, Obviously.
"Hold tight, I'm going to speak with a doctor and call you right back."
I whispered my office number to her and hung up.
The call to Mr. Berg went surprising well. He was calmer then I imagined him being. We decided to wait for the call back and he'd get on the road and meet me at the doctor's office when we knew what the plan was.
Within minutes of hanging up with me, Julie called back with instructions to head straight to ultrasound and a reassuring "It is probably nothing. It sounds like a burst blood vessel, but let's just double check."
My entire drive was filled with tears and prayer and mental lists of all the good things I could focus on.
I felt the baby move this morning. I had stomach issues yesterday, perhaps I irritated something? I've drank 100 ounces of water today, it's not dehydration. Our appointment on Thursday went awesome, we heard the heart beat. I haven't had a bad call yet regarding my blood work, I'd know by now if it was bad.
I checked my email on my phone, hoping to burn a few extra minutes for Mr. Berg to arrive. Before I left the office, I emailed E for prayers.
I pulled into my parking space at my doctor's office, across the road was the door to the ultrasound center. Only good things have happened here. Only good news has been given to you here.
I only had to wait a few minutes before the tech greated me from the hallway door. I followed her back, fighting tears and praying Mr. Berg would make it in time for the bad new news that ultimately would could, bleeding can't be good right?
She led me into the room where we first met Baby Berg. Good things have happened here. Good things will happen here today.
I laid back on the table and managed to laugh as my feet slipped on the chair as I pulled down my pants. This is my first entirely maternity outfit I've ever worn. Will I ever get to wear it again?
She began the scan by looking at the obvious places first. Cervix was long and strong, placenta looked healthy and full. No sign of bleeding, no tears, no sign of issue.
She moved onto the baby. She left the wand on my belly with a full vew of Baby Berg. I could make out the shape of the baby laying in my belly. Baby Berg was still, I couldn't see a heart beat. Should I be able to see a heart beat?
The tech sighed and tapped out noted on her computer, she hadn't noticed I was burning a hole into the screen with my laser focus.
The baby isn't moving. The baby isn't moving.
I held my breathed and waited, bracing myself for the bad news. When suddenly, a hiccup.
Baby Berg's chest rose and fall, the baby raised it's arms and stuck it's thumb in it's mouth.
Holy crap, my baby moved.
"Let's take so pictures of your wiggle worm, okay?" I smiled as tears stained my cheeks. My baby moves!
A few minutes and a knock on the door later, Mr. Berg appeared. Just in time for the tech to say "My goodness you have a healthy wiggle worm in there." Healthy, she said healthy.
All was well.
It was probably a broken blood vessel in my lady bits. There was no sign of issues in my uterus or near my cervix.
We were ushered out the door, clutching two pictures of our beautiful baby. Our baby with a heart beat in the 140s. Our baby who, after pretending to be a statue, never stopped moving for the rest of the exam.
Several hours later, we were cuddle up in bed when I finally admitted to Mr. Berg that today was pretty scary.
"I know, but it turned out okay. The baby is great. Your bleeding has slowed down a lot."
I know, but still, it was scary.
"Well, you never really liked blood anyway."
This is true.
I went to bed more thankful then I have ever been in my whole life. The three of us slept soundly through the night. We woke up to no blood, no cramps, and a now familiar "tap, tap, tap" from our very favorite wiggle worm.
Praise God.
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