145 BPM

Got to pay a little visit to Labor and Delivery today.

I won't make you do the math, I am only 27 weeks along (tomorrow) so that is like a hundred weeks too early.

And before you start flipping out, I should say that everything is fine.
Everything is great!

We (and I mean ME) were concerned that we (me) might be leaking a little amniotic fluid. (I shall spare you the nitty gritty, I already had to give far too many details to my dad on the phone earlier tonight.)

I assumed I would just head to the doc and they'd have me walk through some sort of amniotic fluid scanner (like an airport metal detector) and then we'd have a good laugh about how silly I was being and then they'd buy me Starbucks and I would go home.

Instead they said that they wanted me to go to the big L and D. This is not a place I wanted to be....not for a good 3 months at least. But off I went.

The fun in getting there included getting a little lost downtown (I don't usually drive myself to the hospital) and then helping a very colorfully worded lady with the automated parking payment machine and then hitting the "door close" button on the elevator before the creepy guy who was walking behind me had a chance to hop in. Then I felt bad for being so judgmental so I pushed the button as I got out to send the elevator back down to him.

Everything moved along quite quickly. Too quickly, actually. At one point, while I was in my fancy-you-will-see-these-on-the-runway-this-year hospital gown with the baby monitor while my little girl made that heart of hers beat like a pro, I found myself more relaxed than I had been in a long time. The room was lit very dimly, it was very quiet....it was kind of nice. I didn't even turn on the TV which is really a shocker.

Docs came and did all sorts of things including an external ultrasound in which they declared that I looked just right and the baby kicked her foot super high in the air. (Not even kidding.)

I was so thankful for modern medicine declaring me to be a worrywart. The docs were kind enough to tell me that it was good that I came in and to always be safe rather than sorry. I did have a degree of peace going into it and found that my biggest fear was the requirement of non-stress tests 2x a week for the next 3 months. None of that was necessary and all I left with was a feeling of peace (and the desire to fill up my cup with more of the yummy crunchy ice.)

Confession: Wouldn't mind the need to hang out in a darkened, quiet room for a few hours again before this baby comes. It was some of the best relaxing I have done in weeks.


Follow Up Thought: Perhaps the inside of a massage room would be a better place than a hospital bed?