First of all, it's Erin's birthday today. Yea Erin! Good job being born all those years ago. Thanks for moving in across the hall from me freshman year. If it hadn't been for you, I may have transferred to Wisconsin.
A year ago I was about 27 weeks pregnant with Michael. I woke up to realize I was spotting, which is something I never experienced with Harper. I called the doctor, made an appointment, and then called to arrange for someone (probably Ann/Nana) to watch Harper, and then took a shower.
I remember being in the shower and completely breaking down and just sobbing. All I could think was that, if something was going wrong or I found out the baby wasn't okay, I would forever link the memory of that bad news with Erin's birthday. And I actually prayed that if we were going to lose the baby that it wouldn't happen that day.
As it turned out my doctor didn't see anything worrisome, the baby sounded good, she didn't think I even needed an ultrasound, and suspected I had just burst some blood vessels coughing. So she sent me home with instructions to call back if things got worse.
Of course something was (or already had) gone wrong, but without an ultrasound there was no way to tell for sure. So I went home and took a nap.
For the record I don't blame my doctor at all for not seeing what was happening or for not insisting that I have an ultrasound that day. She actually said I could go to the hospital and get one if I wanted to, but she really didn't think it was necessary. And I didn't press it because I knew Harper was waiting at home and I trusted my doctor.
All's well that end's well, right?
For the record I would like to acknowledge that I appreciate that we all survived relatively unscathed and I know there are a million worse ways things could have gone. I think I can be grateful and still admit/own all the other things I felt during this time last year. I plan to tell it like it is/was without apologies...