During my first pregnancy I was diagnosed with preeclampsia (which again nobody told me until my 6 weeks checkup after the birth of my son).
That time I felt sick to my stomach, had blurred vision, felt dizzy and feverish and my blood pressure sky rocketed once checked at the hospital.
I now remind my doctor of all of this, realizing that I try to convince her that my symptoms after that leak were so different that this leak can obviously not have been the water breaking. She does not even seem to pay attention or listen to my babbling and then the nurse peeks her head in (the doctor had obviously called or paged her or something without me noticing) and after some brief instructions hurries out of the room (I have never seen this nurse hurry before, instead she always seems to move in slow motion).
My doctor actually interrupts me to tell me that she needs to do an ultrasound. I remember thinking “uh oh, that can’t be good”. That I need to be home in 20 minutes to relieve the nanny also enters my mind (our nanny does not want to babysit our rather hmm busy son for more than two hours- and never more than three- at a time so I usually have a very limited time to get things done or have my “mommy alone time”).
They rush me into the ultrasound room and put gooey cold gel on my stomach before I even have time to ask what they are looking for. I do think, “all of this because I peed my pants a little bit while hanging out watching “the Bachelor” on the couch while my boys were snoozing in bed upstairs.
After telling me that the baby looks “beautiful”, (very encouraging-after that statement, what can possibly go wrong?) she tells me that the amniotic fluid level (“water”) looks good (fine, me and my urine leaking whale body can waddle home then?). Well, no…
She suddenly turns uncharacteristically quiet. I keep asking her “what?”, “what is wrong?” and “what do you see?” but she isn’t even answering. Again, probably not the best sign. Minutes pass while she stares at the white and black screen in front of her as she is moving the wand like thingy across my baby bump. I strain my neck to see what she is looking at but of course I can’t even understand what is on the screen, I’m ashamed to say that I can’t even make out a baby on there (is that a foot, ops I mean or aha that is the head, okay clearly a baby bottom). Without talking or even looking at me she leaves the room, the very kind but rather slow nurse informs me that the doctor will be right back with her colleague (huh? “How can she possible know that, does she have psychic powers? and wait, what? why does she need a second opinion?”).
All sorts of scary thoughts keep rushing through my head and I actually feel a bit faint. To be honest, as the minutes tick by, I actually freak out. Here I am laying on that little bed thing, my big stomach exposed still with the green gooey goo, waiting, vulnerable and scared.