The past 24 hours haven't sucked. I'd venture to say they were good even.
It's been a while since things were good, mind you.
Yesterday I met with the doctor I used for my pregnancy with Jules. They have a new office with quotes from Buddha on the walls of the exam rooms. Of course the real odd thing was in the exam room I realized there was...music.
But not just any music, music that made me feel like I was watching some Discovery network show about dolphins. Then upbeat Survivor like music would come on, complete with chanting.
I went from a nervous wreck, crying in the waiting room, to just hoping I didn't burst out into hysterical laughing as soon as the man walked into the room.
Yeah, I was a nervous wreck. I really have no idea why this got to me, but it did. About the time I was pulling into the parking lot I started freaking out. As I was filling out paperwork I was forgetting things, like my birthday & social security number. Even my address. I then got to fill out this form "All About You!" which was thrilling. After going over my medical history, I turn the page & get to do a math problem. What kind of math problem?
The dead baby pregnancy living children math problem.
How many times have you been pregnant.
How many times have you had an abortion.
How many times have you had a miscarriage.
How many living children do you have.
Then there was another comment under those questions I had to fill in that read "If your final number of living children differs from your number of pregnancies, please explain in the space below."
At that point I wrote this: My son died when I was 40 weeks pregnant. I believe you call that a "fetal demise," but my son died. Please refer to him as my son, not a "fetal demise" in my presence. Thanks.
I then went on to list the names of my children, including Joel. Since I thought it'd be confusing, I considered drawing an arrow from his name to the explanation above, but I worried that'd be overkill.
I finally get called back by a very nice nurse. She ask me if I"m switching providers or just considering it. I look confused & then blurt out, "It's a long story, but my other OB broke up with me because they think I'm too high risk, so I"m here to see if he'll see me before I have to drive 45 minutes to see a regular OB who plans to follow the same recommendations that are already in my chart."
She took my rambles as a champ, even seemed to understand. She took my blood pressure which I was expecting to be ridiculous but it was perfectly normal. I kinda freaked out at that news.
After I enjoyed about 30 minutes of tribal music, all while pretending I'm on the finale of Survivor in my head (what, you don't do that?), the doctor comes in. His first question was basically "what happened?" I asked if he wanted the story some doctors keep giving me or our story, he wanted ours. So I told him. I told him about the kidney, how everyone keeps telling me you can live with just one, but we basically thought there were fluid issues. For once, a doctor didn't interrupt me & tell me, "Oh, no, you can live with just 1 kidney, that wasn't the issue!" He was surprised they didn't monitor me even if they thought they found a 2nd kidney & seemed to buy my theory when I explained the only kidney Joel had was a smaller pelvic kidney. He looked through everything, told me they could handle me without a problem, said they'd do everything recommended since that's basically what they'd do anyway. Her told me the only thing they couldn't do was the fetal echocaridiogram, which was suggested since Adam's sister had a heart condition, & then he told me they'd refer me to an office for that to be done around 22-24 weeks. Without even being told, he assured me they wouldn't send me to the local office to do it, the office where Joel was misdiagnosed, they'd send me to a different one.
He then sent me for another ultrasound, since I was paranoid & my measurements were 8 days off from what my due date was suppose to be. About 20 minutes after that, I got another peek at Piccadilly:
Baby has a heart rate that is good, measures that he/she has grown since earlier this week.
That scan showed me to be 7 weeks exactly instead of the 8 weeks exactly my last period would have put me at, so my new due date is June 24th. The doctor saw me again & showed me the report they'd already given of the ultrasound. He was really open about talking about everything with me, he realized I studied all of this stuff over the past few months, so he basically treated me like I knew what was going on. That was really my only complaint about him last time around, so I appreciate he didn't fall back into that. He offered to see me before the regular 1 month appointment, but I told him a month was fine, minus any issues of course. He then chased me down the hall not once, but twice, to tell me something he'd forgotten to mention before. Some may not like that he forgot to tell me a couple things, but hey, he eventually remembered & made an effort to make sure I knew. Nothing too important, but still.
And hey, if you really want to involve yourself in my life, feel free to Pick Piccadillys Stats.
Of course things got even better luck wise this afternoon as I was checking my email & found out that I'd won the ticket lotto for Conan O'Brien tickets when we're out west at the end of this month. So November 30th, my pregnant ass is going to see Conan live. Woohoo!
So I have a doctor. And I get to see Conan. Things are good. My mother is still nuts & bitter, but hey, I don't live with her so who cares?
My luck the past 24 hours has worked out so well I should have bought a lotto ticket when I was shopping tonight. I went shopping for food & came home with about a dozen types of yummy desserts. Yay for pregnancy. No, I don't blame the pregnancy for wanting to eat lots of ice cream & pie, it just gives me a better excuse than usual.