Thursday, November 11, 2010

Another Ridiculous Experience.............. Only the Norvells

Well, I thought today was not going to be completely consumed with pregnancy.  I mean, I know I am couch-bound, and I’m not allowed to do much of anything – but I thought I could get away with talking about, or thinking about, ANYTHING other than pregnancy and pregnancy-related symptoms for just today.  But, then… my water broke.

Or did it?  Well, I thought it did.  I was just lying in bed with my husband, visiting a bit before he had to get ready for work and gush!  I called my doctor’s nurse practitioner, who after my description also thought it broke.  So, my dad offered to drive me to the hospital so that my husband could continue on to work and get things in order before heading to meet me if the tests confirmed that my water did, in fact, break.  An hour-and-a-half drive later, I’m feeling contractions.  You’d think after 5 weeks of contractions, I would let them slide and not be concerned, but NO-O-OH.  Not me.  I convinced myself over the course of the drive that they were worse.  Then, it dawned on me  -- I haven’t felt the baby move all morning!  And so, by the time I get to the hospital, I am completely convinced that either something is wrong or I am in full-fledged labor. 

NOT!  The tests came back that my amniotic fluid sac did not rupture.  The probability is that it was the outer bag of water, called the chorion (which I just learned about today!  You’d think as a pregnant woman approaching the ninth month of pregnancy that somebody, somewhere, would inform you of something that seems kind of important like this), but it’s not important.  It doesn’t matter.  Has nothing to do with going into labor.  And their response to contractions that are 4 minutes apart?  “Yeah, we don’t care – you’ve been doing that for 5 weeks and the kid still hasn’t spilled out… SO not worried.”  Get an annoying eye roll in there, and it’s the perfect impression of my discharge nurse.

So, my day became about spending some time with my Daddy, who took me out to eat for lunch.  I appreciate him more than he knows for doing that!  But then, he told me to stop worrying so much about everything.  Okay Dad, sure.  I’ll stop worrying… in exchange for the promise that you won’t stress or worry when you’re pregnant.  Oh, wait!  Tha-at’s right…  So, please don’t tell me not to worry.  You can tell me that you’re praying for me.  You can tell me that you’re there no matter what happens.  You can comfort me in all kinds of ways.  BUT you, or anyone else for that matter, telling me not to worry is like stepping on some sacred rite of passage to mommy-dom.  The worry must go on.  There’s nothing you, I, or anyone else can do about it.

Let’s just hope that some more things can be accomplished so that the next time I leave the house to try to have this baby I won’t feel like I’ll be coming home to a tornado's path of destruction (okay, it's not dirty or destroyed so much as just a lot of undone projects - we live in an old house with lots of problems, what more can I say?).  *Just a side note:  I hate the term “nesting”.  I am not forming little twigs into a comfy place for my kid to sleep  -- I just wonder, is it too much to ask that there not be stacks of stuff left unpacked and partial projects everywhere I look when I come home from the hospital??  Pretty sure that’s just good sense, less to overwhelm someone recovering from surgery.  The fact that I am pregnant and about to have a baby:  irrelevant.  Just sayin’.

*** Since all I've done is rant about the mishaps and complain about things (just a tad), I would like to take the time to say that I thank God that I have an amazing husband who does so much for me.  Just this past weekend, he cleaned the fan and windows and moved furniture in our baby's nursery, repainted her dresser with hutch so that as a changing table it would match the crib, did all the laundry (including a load of diapers to get them ready for the baby), hung curtains in our bedroom, and installed a new ceiling fan in the kitchen.  Yesterday, he hung our baby's new blinds, and he cooked me a home cooked dinner.  He always does all the dishes and cleans up around the house, trying his best to make me do nothing since I am supposed to be on bed rest...  So, he's doing everything here at home, including all the little projects that I keep adding to the list, plus maintaining his full-time job teaching math to snot-nosed junior high kids.  And on top of that, he is working on his master's degree, and is able to keep his grades of A's in his current graduate classes.  I hope my complaints and rantings don't make me sound ungrateful.  I love my husband very much and appreciate all he does. 


  1. Wow both of you seem to have some super human strength in there.

  2. Aww... you're too kind! I think it's just survival. LOL


Please follow my blog!