Longing for a pregnancy like my last

This week’s prenatal visit went a bit more like I expected, though it still wasn’t pleasant. Since Sunday, I’ve been having pain in my nether regions. It’s not the kind of pain I’d get all worked up about, but it’s pain nonetheless. I was going to wait until my appointment today, but Adam was worried and threatened that if I didn’t call the doctor to get reassurance (mostly for him) that he’d call them for me.

The pain started on Sunday in church when Ryan refused to let Adam hold him. I ended up having him in my arms and on my lap for most of the service (in a few months, Ry will be old enough for Sunday School. Until then, he’s stuck with us.). Anyway, I noticed the pain during church. The pain increased as the days went by. It occurred to me that maybe I have a UTI, but I was just going to wait for Thursday’s appointment.

I called my doctor’s MA around noontime and had an appointment for 1 p.m. Basically, there weren’t enough symptoms to diagnose me over the phone so someone needed to take a look just to be safe. It would mean I could cancel my appointment today, which was fine with me.

I have no fever, no vomiting, no nausea, no bleeding. I just have this dull ache in my nether regions that makes me wonder if I have a UTI. Urine sample is collected, OB/GYN is consulted and we’re off for another ultra sound to rule out things like appendicitis, placental abruption and anything that could be wrong with baby. The doc’s best guess is that I’m having some ligament pain, not the round ligament pain associated with earlier pregnancy, but the kind in which something was strained while picking up Ryan. The worst-case scenario is that my uterus is constricting my urethra and I’ll need hospitalization and some fun tubes to open things up. In a what could be a bizarre twist, that cyst that I had earlier in pregnancy may have come back, but that’s not likely.

At this point of the visit it was almost 2 p.m. and Ryan was really tired. We’re moved to another examination room so the OB/GYN in the practice (I use a family doc) can take a look. While in the process of moving, Ryan decides to open the biohazard trashcan. The MA says, “Oh no, Ryan don’t touch that it’s yucky.” My kid is exhausted and has just been told not to do something. Not a good combination, though a needed warning because who knows what’s in those biohazard bins. Anyway, he’s staring at the floor and the MA asks, “is he okay?” And I say, “Yes, he’s just tired and thinks you’re being mean.”

And the kid cried for over an hour! Nothing I did could console him. Nothing the doctors or nurses tried to do could make him happy either. Daddy was called in to help (which I didn’t want to do because he’s having a really busy week at work). I just couldn’t imagine being on the table for another ultra sound with a SCREAMING little boy some how in my arms. I knew if any one in the world could get him to calm down it would be his daddy.

Yet another ultra sound was preformed. Baby is fine. My placenta is fine. I’m not having appendicitis. We’re not sure about my ovaries or my urethra because they weren’t visible. Basically, I get to come home and wait to see if the pain gets worse or if my urine culture shows I have a UTI.

While I realize that some people have way more difficult pregnancies, I’ve hated this one for the constant uncertainty. I often wish it were a pregnancy like the one I had with Ryan. At least I’d know what to expect (seven months of throwing up and four hospital visits for IVs).

It’s hard to remember that God is in control when things seem to always be a bit nutty. As you may imagine, I’m not looking forward to my next prenatal visit next week.