Thursday, February 11, 2010

She's a weeble who wobbles but thankfully doesn't fall down

For paranoid first-time expectant parents like us, any scare, no matter how small, seems gigantic. Or at least it does for me. I think Amanda takes a lot of this in stride, especially now that she can feel the boys, but me...well, I don't have the privilege of reaching down to feel a reassuring (albeit not all that comfortable) kick or punch almost any time I'm worried. Also, I have no idea what it feels like to be pregnant, so when I'm told this or that thing hurts, I simply believe it and worry that it's indicative of some problem or another, either with her or with the twins. Please note that I realize all of this is par for the course and only increases once the little ones make their grand entrances.

You can thank the persistent, prolonged cold weather for this most recent test of my fear response. As you can imagine, when I got an instant message from my wife that said "I slipped on the ice today and now my stomach kinda hurts," I flipped out a little bit. "Call the birthing center, please," I typed, trying to come across as calm but insistent. In my head, however, I was thinking OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD. She went on to explain that she didn't fall but had simply started to fall and, in the process of catching herself (so she assumed), she had strained a muscle in her already overstretched belly. The birthing center asked her to come in to confirm this probable diagnosis. After being unable to confirm separate heartbeats using the Doppler, she was given an ultrasound, and this confirmed that everything was fine. The doc told her she would be sore in the morning (she was, but more from Raiden than from the slip), but otherwise she and the little ones were perfectly fine.

She sent me a text to signal the all clear and I found that I was able to breath again. The funny part was that I was teaching my class at the time and I stopped to read the text, something for which I would normally berate students. I told my students at the beginning of class that I might be a bit distracted as my wife was at the doctor's office and I was waiting to hear back from her (they know we're expecting). I started in on my lecture when one of the students perked up and asked, with a slight hint of fear in her voice " she ok?" I played it off like I had no fear at all, but I must have done a bad job of it because when I told them that the text said she was fine, I could detect a distinct, collective sigh of relief from the room.

We did get one unfortunate (though quite possibly temporary) piece of news: apparently Raiden (aka Mr. Right Side) has decided to flip himself back over to the breech position again. Both were feeling a bit camera shy as the ultrasound technician was unable to get good face shots of either one. What struck Amanda as especially funny about the whole ordeal was that the tech placed the transducer right below her ribs, right where it hurts so much, and a giant head appeared on screen. The little guy is head-butting her rib cage all day long. Way to go, little dude.

Later that night, while studying in bed, Amanda moaned and exclaimed "Oww! My rib hurts!" I touched her shoulder and responded "I know, hon, and I'm sorry...but what doesn't hurt?" I expected a playful slap or perhaps a dirty look, but instead there was a slight pause and then she responded in a low, pained (but laugh-filled voice) "My feeeeeet!" So at least there's that.


Mom said...

Much nicer blog. Glad everyone's OK. Love all of you, Mom.

Eileen said...

I just found your blog. It's so refreshing reading things from the male perspective. I wish my husband would blog too! I look forward to reading more.

Em said...

Kevin, I love the title and was also nervous as I read the narrative until my collective sigh that all was fine! Happy Valentine's day to you and your family!!!! I love that her feet don't hurt and that Amanda is able to keep a sense of humor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sonora said...

I am so glad everyone's ok. That is so scary.
I really feel for your wife. The only way I could explain to anyone how awful I felt at the end of my pregnancy was by reminding them of the scene in the Princess Bride right after Wesley is tortured and the guys asks him how he feels. All he can do is let out this awful moan. That is how I felt.
I hope she feels better!

Mommy, Esq. said...

I just found your blog from a comment you left on McMommy. I'm a twin mom and the primary breadwinner (although my husband works too). I was curious if your wife is comfortable in the role she is taking on - I thought I would be and mostly am but the guilt has been much harder than I realized. I was lucky enough to have 6 months at home with my twins before returning to work (they are 1.5 yrs old and we have a singleton due a couple of weeks after your twins are due). Anyway, I look forward to hearing about your adventure. My husband is an amazing dad - he does bedtimes and many of the doctors' visits because of my work schedule. It creates a partnership unlike more "conventional" couples.