One of my very gracious teaching colleagues at school donated her crib to David and me. After I asked her if she was sure that she did not need the crib anymore, she promised us that she was done having kids and that she was thankful for us to take it our of her house. We are so grateful!
I gave some advice and helpful instruction to David.... actually, not really, I just sat on the bed and watched... as he set up the crib in our apartment. While everything else is a mess, it felt good to at least see that the crib is all ready.
Below, Hank watched on from the laundry room as crib construction took place in the guest bedroom.
ALSO, I wasn't feeling the frequency nor the "fierceness" of the baby kicks in the last two days that I had been feeling over the Memorial Day Weekend, so I decided to move up my next doctor's appointment originally scheduled for next Tuesday to yesterday (Thursday).
While I am known for being a "Nervous Nelly" in general when I'm not pregnant, I debated for a day about calling my doctor and really didn't want to be the lady who calls her doctor about every little thing. I've done a really good job so far, and that's why I felt like it was okay to see my doctor a few days earlier than expected.
It was a year ago, last May, that I went to the hospital for my D&C (dilation & curettage) surgery, which is crazy that now we're having more positive doctor's appointments this May, but the "anniversary" still makes me a little anxious about everything now.
Of course, the appointment ended up simply giving me a peace of mind and the baby was fine, but my doctor did say that she was glad that I came in and that I did the right thing. My blood pressure was normal, and the baby's heart beat was good, in the mid-150s again.
Because my doctor said that I'm a "higher risk" patient with my history, she wanted to go ahead and hook me up to a kick-count machine and to the ultrasound machine.
I don't know the formal name, but I was hooked up to a machine that I had never used before and that had two wires with patches connected to each which would go on my belly. One patch would measure the baby's heart beat, and I didn't know until after I was doing using the machine, that the other patch hooked up to measure the uterus contractions.
The nurse told me to push a button when I would feel any sort of nudge, bump or kick from the baby. I was trying to really pay close attention and push it for anything I felt. After 25 minutes of sitting on the chair and looking at the long strip of paper being printed out with scribbled charts of the heart beat, uterus contractions and dots where I had pushed the button for kicks, the doctor said that the chart looked good and that I was feeling enough kicks to make her happy about the baby. BUT, the only thing that did surprise her, and not necessarily worry her, was that I was having Braxton-Hicks contractions, and several of them, according to the printed data.
My doctor said that Braxton-Hicks contractions are just "fake contractions." According to AmericanPregnancy.org, they happen when "the muscles of the uterus tighten for approximately 30 to 60 seconds and sometimes last as long as two minutes."
My doctor asked if my uterus hurt when I felt these during that 25-minute period in the office, and I said no, but they just felt like strong kicks, even as they were not happening as frequently in the last few days, in my mind at least.
We then turned the ultrasound machine on, and everything looked good there, too. The baby was measuring more like 30-31 weeks and weighed 3 pounds, 4 ounces.
While I felt much more relieved after this appointment, especially since I'm a clueless first-time pregnant lady and didn't know how many kicks and strength of the kicks were normal or not, my doctor still wanted to see me for a brief check-up on my original scheduled appointment next Tuesday to check the heart beat.
I was there for two hours, and I know David, usually the calm one in our relationship, was feeling like the "Nervous Nelly" when I didn't return his texts after what I thought would be a quick appointment.
He texted "#relieved" after I gave him the good news.
