The overarching theme of this week has been fatigue: crippling, tear-inducing fatigue. Considering that I work 12-hour shifts, this is not a good thing. One night after working my usual 12-hour shift, I had to stay after and renew my CPR card. Unfortunately, the building it was in was a couple blocks away. No worries; I’ll take the shuttle! I arrive early for once, only to find an empty room. I wait for 15 minutes, but the instructor still hasn’t shown up. I considered putting my head down on my messenger bag for a quick nap until she showed, but instead looked in my planner; it was then that I realized I was in the wrong damn building, and the right building was two blocks away. My tired brain could not figure out which shuttles would get me there the quickest, so I power walked two city blocks to get to the correct building. By the time I got there, I was out of breath and even felt a little faint. The instructor looked a little alarmed by my appearance, and told me to catch my breath and that there was no hurry. I guzzled a soda (not the healthiest thing, but it’s what I had in my heavy bag), caught my breath, and got to work. Then, I had to get to my car… which was, of course, blocks away from where I was. I took yet another shuttle to the depot, and had to take refuge at the Starbuck’s that was in Washington University’s bookstore. I caught my breath, got some much needed caffeine, got to my car, drove home, and then collapsed right into bed the minute I got home (after I peed, of course).
After what seemed like months of waiting, I finally had my first doctor’s appointment, though I was actually seen by the Clinical Nurse Midwife who works for who will be my doctor (or my babydoctor, as I like to call her, which is said in the same manner as my babydaddy). Greg accompanied me like the good sport he is; I was hoping, as was he, that we’d get a glimpse of the little parasite on ultrasound. Alas, it was not to be. The CNM took a gander at my lady parts and assured me all was normal, and then proceeded to gouge a hole in my cervix with one of those culture swabs that look like a mascara wand. Finally, I got some bonus free prenatal vitamins with stool softeners built in (how convenient since I’ve suddenly been having problems dropping the kids off at the pool the last week or so; Niki, I feel your pain), and then got blood drawn to check my hemoglobin and hematocrit (to make sure I’m not anemic since I had a dizzy spell after overexerting myself). Everything came back normal, to my relief. I guess feeling really crummy is normal during pregnancy.
After what seemed like months of waiting, I finally had my first doctor’s appointment, though I was actually seen by the Clinical Nurse Midwife who works for who will be my doctor (or my babydoctor, as I like to call her, which is said in the same manner as my babydaddy). Greg accompanied me like the good sport he is; I was hoping, as was he, that we’d get a glimpse of the little parasite on ultrasound. Alas, it was not to be. The CNM took a gander at my lady parts and assured me all was normal, and then proceeded to gouge a hole in my cervix with one of those culture swabs that look like a mascara wand. Finally, I got some bonus free prenatal vitamins with stool softeners built in (how convenient since I’ve suddenly been having problems dropping the kids off at the pool the last week or so; Niki, I feel your pain), and then got blood drawn to check my hemoglobin and hematocrit (to make sure I’m not anemic since I had a dizzy spell after overexerting myself). Everything came back normal, to my relief. I guess feeling really crummy is normal during pregnancy.
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