My turn, I suppose, for a scare

On Monday I was at work, and I sat down in an office chair and it broke out from underneath me. I fell right on my bum and sort of sat there, shocked, for half a second, and I crossed myself because that was the first thing I could think of doing. I managed to get up just fine, but I decided to call the advice nurse at Kaiser, just to be safe. I didn't think it would be a big deal, since I didn't really feel injured. But something told me to call just in case, and I did. Fortunately I was not put on hold for an hour-- Glory to God! Otherwise I would have just hung up and forgotten about it.

Well, in summary, the advice nursed advised me to haul my (almost) 7-month pregnant body to the emergency room at St. Vincents. Emergency room, eh? That means this is an emergency? So, are you sure I can drive myself?--I asked. She said it'd be fine. Okey dokey. I called my co-worker's cell-- she was on her break and returned promptly after I told her I needed to go to the hospital. Then I called my husband, trying not to sound too panicked.

I was originally sent to the hospital so that Baby and I could be monitored, just in case I went in to pre-term labor. Well, I ended up staying 24 hours because my uterus was contracting up to four times an hour (which is considered "every 15 minutes," even if thye weren't necessarily spaced out like that).

My sweet family and some friends visited me, and Father Theodore came to visit the following morning. My sweet husband missed a day of school for me (if you don't know Job, he is VERY dedicated to school and academics-- the complete opposite of me!), and stayed by my side. I didn't have to get hooked up to any I.V.s or anything, I just had two huge velcro straps wound around my belly, one to monitor Baby's heartbeat, the other to monitor my uterus. I was given some medicine to keep the contractions at bay, and it seemed to do the trick.

After 24 hours of surveillance, I got wheeled (on a stretcher) downstairs to get a sonogram, just for safe measure. The sonographer was a peppy British (maybe Irish? there was a soft lilt to her voice too) young woman named Phil. Baby was being extremely energetic, she didn't want to get her picture taken. But we ended up getting 100% confirmation that yes, she is a SHE-- yes! Now I don't have to worry about a boy popping out instead. Phil was very generous and let us take home some pictures-- something she said she wasn't allowed to do. We got two adorable shots of our little girl's face, one of her profile and one of her nose and lips. She's got her papa's nose! Too cute...

We stayed at my parent's house last night, but we're home now. I'm taking a few days off of work, just to take it easy and relax (nurses' orders). The apartment is a mess, and I feel like a mess myself, but I'm listening to Nick Drake and he's helping brighten my spirits. I'm just so happy that my girl is okay and that she's not a preemie in the I.C.U. right now. God is good.