Ah, sleep. I was looking forward to that last night. I was going to sleep until noon. My parents had Jules, Adam was at work, & I'd sleep. Finally. You see, the past few weeks I've had this fun issue with sleep. I had it with Jules, too. I get to sleep. But after about 2-3 hours, I'm awake. Dead tired & can't drag myself up to the bathroom, but unable to sleep for anywhere from 2-4 hours. Then, of course, by the time I curl up & get back to sleep, I have a toddler poking me & saying, "HI!" I spend the rest of my day dragging, getting nothing done, & feeling drunk by the evening because I'm just tired & out of it. Naps happen sometimes, but they don't really help matters.
So this morning, I was going to sleep. As long as I wanted. And then, I was going to lay in the damn bed all day until it was time for my 3:30 ultrasound.
As usual, I woke up around 5am, was awake until almost 8. Finally, I was able to sleep. Then Axel Rose woke up me at 8:33.
No, it wasn't a nightmare, it was my ringtone on my phone. It was the doctors office. Always a good sign.
This girl tells me the girl who made my appointment didn't usually work there, so she didn't know that on some days ultrasound had to be done by noon. Today was one of those days. So they had to have me come in at 10:30. She then goes on to tell me she's not sure my insurance will pay for another ultrasound & that it may even need precertified, then asked if I was told that. I laughed & said, "Who did you expect to tell me? The girl who didn't know when I could have an appointment?" She laughed & agreed. I tell her she can find out for me from their billing, I'm put on hold for 10 minutes, all the while thinking, "they will fucking pay for this shit, I'm the mom of a dead baby, do they really want all those bills again?" Finally she came back & told me my insruance did indeed cover it, & thinking back now I got paperwork from them weeks ago after they contacted my insurance & it already stated that they would all be covered.
I'm not much of a thinker at 8:30.
She goes on to look for my doctors appointment, then ask when it was suppose to be, I told her around 4 I'd guess since it was after the ultrasound. She looks & there is nothing. Great. So she tells me to just tell them when I'm done & see if they can fit me in, otherwise she'd put me in at 4 & I'd have to come back.
So I hang up, text Adam let him know about the ultrasound. Thankfully he could come, as it was during this planning period. I was happy because all I really could think was "great, I'm going to have them tell me my baby is dead & I'll be alone for it this time."
Mind you, I have no reason to think the baby was dead. I just did. It's a natural feeling at this time. I was really convinced they'd find nothing but a tiny 6 week looking blob that stopped growing weeks ago. I had it all planned out in my head. Just like before my first ultrasound when I was convinced he/she was dead then, too, & I was trying to decided if I would want a D&C or wait for "nature to take it's course." Yes, I was trying to decide without knowing anything was wrong. Pretty sure that's a way of life for people in my shoes.
Anyway, I'm awake at that point because I have to be. I drag out to my frozen car & drive to the office. Adam gets there. I get to the window & tell her who I am, she can't find my paperwork. She then says, "Oh, wait, are you the one they are fitting in?" I felt like that made this sound like my fault, so I responded with, "Well, they gave me an incorrect appointment & just told me 90 minutes ago, so I guess."
We wait. And we wait. People get called back. Sue. Mary. Jane. All random made up names, but you get the point. Then I hear, "Mrs. Culver."
Why am I Mrs. Culver? When I hear that, I cringe & look around for my mother in law. And when everyone else gets called back by their first names, why don't I? Same thing last time I had a scan as well. Weird.
I go back. She tells me undo my pants, which I'm really only use to hearing after someone has bought me dinner, but I comply anyway. She shot some hot gel on my stomach (yeah, write your own joke for that one) & went looking for the baby.
Amazingly, she found out. And it looked like a baby. And it had a heartbeat. It was weird, because I really didn't expect that.
I know, I know, I need to stop.
Anyway, the baby must have been on a sugar high somehow, because it was all over the place. And the technician was at a mini war with my uterus tenant, trying to get shots of him/her holding still at the right angles. Much like with Jules, she used her magical ultrasound wand thingy to jab my stomach with, making the baby fly around like it's in an earthquake. I think at one point I saw a thought bubble that said, "what the hell is going on?!"
Finally, she got everything she needed & told me I could clean up & get up. I did both, only for her to realize she didn't measure the whole baby. You know, that most common thing. So I had to lay down again & peek at Piccadilly again so she could measure. Right on the nose, 12 weeks & 6 days. Perfection.
I bid Adam fellware & went to my doctors window, started to tell her the story but she stopped me, knowing who I was, & told me they'd get me in. Fabulous. As I sit down I see an older lady across me filling out her new patient paperwork. This woman would soon feel my wrath.
Back story. When we lost Joel, I had to go to a doctors office the next morning to get orders for lab work & the induction. Of course, I didn't have an appointment. They worked me in & when I got there, knowing my situation, they told me they'd give me the next available room so I wouldn't have to sit around a room full of pregnant women. While I waited about 20 minutes, a couple women were, well, bitches. They were angry tey were having to wait. They were angry that people they felt more important than were getting called back first. They kept going to the window to complain about how people who came after them were getting called back. They kept threatening to leave. Part of me was hoping they would say something when I got called back, before them of course. I really wanted to blurt out, "Yeah, well, I'm more special than you, I have to go deliver my dead baby, so shut the hell up." Yeah, I wanted to say it & I would have, but sadly they didn't say anything. Of course that wasn't my only encounter with them. When I had to go to the lab, I saw them AGAIN, along with a guy who was bitching & moaning about waiting 10 minutes. They were still bitching as well.
Now, I hate to wait. I have no patience. But on that day, I swore to myself to never be one of those people. I'm sitting there, been crying for hours, waiting to endure more hell, & they are mad that they have to wait? I would have waited all damn day instead of having to go through what I was going through.
So yeah, I have a very low tolerance of people bitching & moaning about waiting at doctors offices now.
So I sit there & wait. I wait almost an hour. Other people get called back, people who were there after me. You see, different nurses work with different doctors & midwives, so people who were called back weren't seeing my doctor. They have several doors for different doctors. It's a simple process really. But this woman wasn't having it. She was complaining to her husband, who was reading & didn't care. As a little more time passed, she bitched more. Mind you, while she'd been waiting a while, she was there early for the paperwork so while she may have waited 45 minutes, she really was only about 10 minutes pass her appointment time. At one point, the doctor himself came out to get a woman who'd been at the lab & ultrasound earlier. She seemed sad. As he took her back, he talked about levels dropping & they expected that because of the symptoms, but maybe it would get better & to come back in a couple days to another check of the levels. It sounded like this woman was having a miscarriage. I felt for her.
The older lady started bitching about that woman getting called back, even though it was clear to all of us that something bad was going on. She was speaking loudly, I'm thinking she was hoping the employees would hear her & I guess pull her back. She started saying things like, "I want to know what all these girls have done for their special treatment" & was just going on & on about it. She started talking about waiting people, pointing & describing everyone, saying how they'd get called before her at this rate. She started talking about the people leaving. She was just awful. She took it upon herself to point to me finally & says, "Hmmm. I bet that girl in the green will get called back before me & go even though she even knows I was here first" almost as if she was daring me to get called & actually go back, like I should tell the nurse, "No, take her, she was here first!"
At that point, I decided to speak up because I'm a bitch & no one is going to out bitch me anywhere.
I said, "Excuse me, do I know you? Who are you?" in a concerned tone.
She was surprised, & said she didn't know me. I told her I knew she didn't know me, but since she was sitting over there acting as though she was more important than the rest of us when it comes to medical care, I figured she had to be someone important or famous.
She was floored. The woman to the left of me bit her lips as to hold back a laugh. The husband looked up at me, amused, like he was waiting for someone to say something to her.
She just stared at me. I was hoping she'd say something, anything. But she didn't. She made a loud, unhappy grunt
She stayed quiet the next 5 minutes until the nurse came back out. I was hoping I would get called, just because I'm evil, but they called her. And, being a bitch, I then congratulated her on her turn.
*sigh* I felt at that moment that tired or not, I was in good form today.
I finally get my turn in the back. He comes in & tells me, "you're early!" I explain I wasn't, that they screwed up. I asked for something to help me sleep, he gave it to me. My blood test came back fine. He offered me an amino because the specialist said I should have it offered, I passed & he said he knew I would. Keep doing what I'm doing, scan looked great, call if I need anything. He told me come back in a month because "soon enough, you're going to be here all the time." I told him I might just move into his garage. He didn't say no. He wished me a Merry Christmas, I told him to have the same.
I came home & still didn't sleep. I collected things for our "Find Macy Mission." Still no Macy, but I have hope still. A little. But if my cat isn't home by like Christmas Eve, I already told Adam I'm going to cancel Christmas. I'm throwing out the tree, turning the breaker off on the lights, & sitting in a corner with my arms crossed angry.
After plastering the town with flyers about our cat, we went to Applebees, where we got nothing we wanted. Seriously, I wanted potato skins & they were out. They messed up Adam's dinner & created something that didn't even exist, so he didn't get what he wanted but took it because he's nice & they asked him to. They turned his shrimp pasta into some sort of shrimp kabobs over rice. Sounds like an easy mix up, huh? They got mine wrong by slathering it in ranch dressing, which I hate with a passion. They made it again really quick using the chicken they already had cooking for some other meal that was coated in some awful sauce, which the manager then tried to convince me was the same thing they'd always put on it, along with the ranch. I didn't complain, I was just going to eat & go home, but he came along & asked & at that point it was just funny to me. He couldn't tell me why I'd never got it before in my life (I seriously order the same thing all the time) & even Adam agreed it was never there before & he had never tasted anything like it when he'd ordered it himself. Adam said it tasted like what they put on the garlic bread, which is extra good since garlic makes me sick. Of course what was really funny to us is that this Applebees goes through managers like I've never seen. They have a new one every 2-3 months, so this guy who was totally new & we'd never seen, tried to tell me that sauce was on the chicken for about 2 year now. I wanted to say, "Listen dude, you've been here 3 hours, don't tell me what has been used on the food for 2 years." So after that mess, the manager just gave us our meal on the house. In between fussing at the girl who seats people for walking too fast & telling servers to gather around so he could lecture them about how their shirts should be tucked in. The server felt so bad he didn't want to take the tip & asked if we were sure because we didn't have to. How pathetic is that?
We finally picked up our boy & came home to the mess of the house we live in. I'm sill waiting for the magical cleaning gnomes to show up.
And that was our day. And I didn't get to sleep in. Or a nap. I didn't even get to watch a TV show I wanted to watch because I was busy watching Sesame Street instead. Wonder who requested that one?
But magical clean gnomes or not, correct food at Applebees or not, I've got a Piccadilly. And I hope to have my Macy soon, too.
Here is the baby looking at you. Everyone wave at Piccadilly, he/she can see you through your computer.
And here is Piccadilly picking his/her nose. Alright, it's more likely they are sucking a finger or thumb, but the picking their nose thing is funnier. And I'm all about the funny.