the last 24 hours

24 hours ago I was curled up on my bed, trying to breathe. About 7 last night I started getting pains in my abdomen; lower at first, but then moving up to my rib cage. I worried it was a miscarriage but after the center of pain moved up I didn't think it was, but I was still worried. It hurt so bad that I actually spent some time confessing sins and making sure I was ready to go.

Once Bob got Daniel in bed he came to check on me, and I had him call my doctor's nurse line. She wasn't able to pick a cause over the phone and suggested a trip to the ER if "the pain was unbearable." On a scale of 1-10 I ranked it a 12, and we got in the van. The children were all asleep, so we left them home. Taryn is 15 so it should be all legal.

The drive to Washington Regional hospital was uncomfortable to say the least. It's hard to sit in a bucket seat while doubled over. But we made it there; I crawled in (well, it felt like it) and they handed us a paper to fill out. Then I was called into "triage" and asked silly questions about my height and history. Bob repeated that I was pregnant, and hey - action! She popped me in a wheelchair and sprinted a couple miles down to the maternity ward. 

It took them just a few minutes to attend to me, but again with paperwork. I was told to put on a hospital gown (for no apparent reason), and then she checked for the baby's heartbeat. It took her a while to find it, but she did, so we were relieved about that. Then she gathered a few paper towels which she used to carefully wipe her doppler while walking out the door, leaving me all gooey. She popped back in and wanted to check for dilation, which was also fine, and she again left the room without offering a paper towel for me to wipe up. Bob has only been present at a few checks, but even he knew that I'd want to wipe up. Meanwhile, still nothing done or said about the pain. Well, baby being okay, the said since I was 19 weeks 4 days and not yet 20 weeks, I had to go back to the ER. Another sprint - by the time we got back, Bob wanted a wheelchair. Meanwhile I'm groaning and retching...

Back in the ER we had to fill out a new paper and go to triage again, to answer the same silly questions and take my vitals. Then we sat. I writhed in my wheelchair and Bob tried to dose off on the plastic bench. They had "Family Guy" blaring on multiple TV sets. Bob people-watched and put together stories of the other "guests." I read Anna Karenina on my phone. My legs got twitchy. My stomach HURT! And the nurses hopped around and answered the phone and didn't make eye contact or give me any meds. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore and tried to curl up on one of the double chairs. Apparently I dosed off for a few minutes, and when I woke up the pain was gone!

I sat up, and felt okay. I decided to walk across the room to the ladies restroom and put my shirt back on, and if I still felt okay, we would go home. I did, and it was. I took the hospital gown and puke bucket back to the nurse and said, "I guess it didn't kill me." She asked me to sign a paper before leaving, saying I was leaving on my own accord, against medical advice. In thinking about it afterward, I should have crossed out "against" and written in "without," but I didn't think of it then.

We got home at 4am, and went straight to bed. I slept fitfully from 5-8:30 and then woke up. Couldn't go back to sleep. I was tired and sore this morning, but not sick. So anyway, I made good progress in my book.

Today we went to Green Forest to pick up our beef, then into Huntsville for some shopping at Walmart for socks and undies, and lunch at Crossbow. We checked Granny's first, but they were crowded, and Daniel started crying for Crossbow. Back home to clean out and fill the freezer, wash the van, make supper, pack up our clothes for next week, print maps and directions, and get showered for church tomorrow.

Now, if Daniel will only go to sleep, so will I.