Public holidays you got to love them, sleep in, catch up on your tapped series, mean to do the things you were supposed to do but don't do them because how often do we get a day off. This time round my day off was a little bit different and with my luck the series of events was just a typical day in my life.
Woke up early to my new fond friend "Molly" (a.k.a. Morning sickness), I've given her a name as she really has become a life of her own in the past week. She doesn't ask to be invited, she only wants what she wants, which is nothing but Marie Biscuits and she seems to hate me because even if I move an inch she soccer punches me in the pit of my stomach. Along with Molly, came these sharp, stab-like cramps in my left side. Now I knew I would experience cramps and I had been but these were something different, they just didn't feel right. Starting to panic my mom decides to rush me to the hospital.
Can you believe most of the medical profession decide they don't have to work on public holidays, it was like a ghost town and the x-ray lab was closed for the day. So my mom decided casualties it is then. Wow, is all I can say, I practically had to beg the doctor to check me out, it was like he was scared to touch me. He made it sound like if you aint bleeding you aint dieing... I then had to explain how this is my first pregnancy, I'm freaking the F-out because I haven't seen the thing yet and I'm in serious pain so do something! He then proceeded to lightly touch my stomach like it was glass, my irritation growing by the second, which he obviously saw and then decided to phone my OB to find out what to do. Blood tests and an emergency appointment with him the next morning.
Now my fear for needles is some what ridiculous but none the less real, and I still cry like a 2 year old and squeeze my mommy's hand but the last few weeks getting so many done I've become a little braver when it comes to the matter. Well that idea died the moment the nurse straight from hell walked through the door. A staunch, butch and clearly very Afrikaans lady with short spiky hair and what looks like a permanent frown was about to take my blood. Even my sis looked at me and started laughing nervously and mouthed good luck to me. I grabbed her hand and waited for the torture to begin. Now the room we were in was terribly dark, how you could find a little blue vain was beyond me but she seemed to think you could and she starts looking and then POW, i yelped "that actually hurt," she smiled. This horrible woman, decided the best place to take blood was not the usual spot were its mostly skin and veins, no, the front of my arm, through the muscle where I've never seen a vein showing through before. Thus recreating my fear all over again, leaving my arm barely moving and bruised.
And then the wait began, was all this for nothing, was it sitting in the fallopian tube, was it dead... now I'm still not excited and I don't really want to be a mother but I still couldn't even contemplate loosing this Peanut. I don't want it, but I sure don't want it dead. Crying for hours, blaming God and at the same time praying to God that everything will be fine.
Waiting in the doctors rooms seemed to take forever, surrounded by happy couples and new born babies was driving me insane and I could feel the anxiety building up inside of me, not sure what I wanted the doctor to say to me anymore, I was finally called in. Already reality started to kick in as he started to ask questions about the father of the baby, I couldn't bring myself to say, he's not in the picture at this point in time. I know this is terrible but I've never really been to a Gyny or had a scan or pap smear or any of that so I was pooping myself about the whole thing. He did make me comfortable with a few jokes, one real funny one about how he hopes the tattoo on my stomach of a fairy can turn into a dinosaur and then there it was, the peanut, in the right place, nothing wrong just floating around inside me. That was my reality check.... I really am pregnant.