There were three whole days of not puking.
Yesterday morning I had a regular control appointment with the gynecologist, but it was set up to be difficult from the start.
P didn’t know about it. I overslept and was running late. Underlying anger issues due to pregnancy meant this was an UTTER DISASTER.
I literally went into the appointment crying.
And, of course, when you go into an appointment already upset and In The Wrong Frame Of Mind ™, you’re guaranteed to receive The Worst News ™.
The girl is little.
She’s always been smaller than the boy. But now her growth pattern is scaling even smaller. They’re now two weeks apart.
The doctor asked if diabetes runs in the family. (Nope.) If PROS.alpha was born larger than average. (Nope.) And made TWO appointments for next week to retake measurements and possibly do more tests.
The potential seriousness of the situation hit me hard.
I sobbed hysterically.
In the hospital bathroom.
Calmed down enough to drive home and focused on self soothing. I watched television. I cuddled the cat. P came home and helped me get to my next appointment. I didn’t feel good, but I felt less unstable.
Like I could totally wait until next week’s appointments.
I took a nap.
When I woke up I started puking.
And cramping oddly. And ended up going to the hospital.
And they kept me the night cause I was STILL throwing up (BONUS: with blood!) and now dehydrated because not even liquids stayed down.
Doctors (and I) suspected extreme stress reaction. But wanted my hydration levels higher with the intention to do more tests the next morning if I didn’t improve.
I got an IV. Inhaled a little over two bags of liquids through my wrist. And anti-nausea meds. I spent the night. The strange cramps stopped around midnight. The puking stopped around one in the morning. I finally slept around five in the morning.
I ate breakfast. I waited for the doctor.
I DID NOT PUKE.
Let’s fast forward to the punchline, shall we? I’m at home.
I rehydrated, ate solids, peed a lot, got the IV out, spoke with a psychiatrist and made an appointment for next week among the two follow up stressful appointments. The doctors double and triple checked the twins who were totally healthy and active the entire time. By the time I checked out, the girl AND the boy were both head down – a massive relief I didn’t realize was bothering me until I saw their little heads pointing down.
I cried. Of course.
And finally came home.
I have strict orders to chill the fuck out.
And to call them as soon as possible if something similar happens again.