Scary Moments

What started out as an ordinary day turned into a few terrifying hours this morning. Although there's a subway station about 7 minutes from where I live, I typically like to get a 20-minute walk in each morning before hopping on the subway, so I always catch the subway a little further down the subway line. I carry a lot of crap to work, so on a typical day, I sport a gigantic hiking pack. I like it because it's top-loading, I can pack all sorts of stuff into it, and it's really comfortable to carry around, even when it's really packed. I bought it so that I could carry my lunch, change of shoes, water bottle, and whatever else I needed in there. Today was a Yoga day, so I had my change of clothes in there, and my Yoga mat.Today, the plan was no different. Unfortunately, that was not in the cards for me.

This morning, the sidewalks were pretty icy. Normally I'm pretty careful about walking on icy patches, especially now that I've got a little bunkmate. Unfortunately that didn't keep me from taking a fall today. I think it was a combination of my being distracted, along with the fact that the sidewalk looked more wet than it did icy which caught me off guard. One minute, I was walking along listening to my CBC News podcast from last night, and the next, I found myself sitting on the ground. The only saving grace about this whole thing was that I had my giant backpack on, and that cushioned my fall. After cursing under my breath, I got up, and was ready to keep walking per my usual route, but then I changed my mind. I fell right in front of the subway station near my house, so I decided to subway all the way to work.

As I made my way to the subway, I started freaking out. What had I done? I was being a horrible guardian for little PK, who must have been all shaken up and disoriented in there. I started becoming increasingly nervous as I passed a magazine stand saw all of the magazine covers with pregnant celebrities or celebrities who had just given birth. What if something had happened to PK? I don't think I could ever forgive myself for that one. I felt my face turn to stone. I rode the subway like a zombie. I wanted to cry. I wanted the hubby to be there with me. I wanted my mom to tell me that everything would be okay. PK must have sensed my worry, because she started kicking while I sat there on the subway. It was a bit re-assuring, at least, but I was still worried.

I made it into work, in a half-daze. The first thing I did was call my doctor's office to see what I should do. The receptionist said that unless I was feeling cramping or bleeding, that there was no reason to go to the ER. Easy for her to say. She wasn't the one who fell. Feeling uneasy about the "advice" from the doctor's office, I waited for the hubby to call me once he got to work. It seemed like it was taking forever. Why didn't he call? I decided to check to see if there was any bleeding or spotting. None. That was a good sign. No cramps, but I was feeling a sharp pain on the bottom left of my pregnant belly. Panic. Then the hubby called, and I broke down. I was scared. I wanted to know that everything was okay. He suggested that I go to the ER anyway, and that he'd meet me there. Poor guy - drove all the way to Mississauga, only to have to drive back down, still in rush-hour traffic.

When I got to the hospital, the adventure began. First, I couldn't find the ER and had to ask for directions. Then I found the ER, and was frightened when I saw someone sitting there on a stretcher. I scanned the room - relatively empty. Whew. I spoke to a doctor in triage (the triage nurse was busy), and he told me that I'd be better off going to the pre-natal triage upstairs, as they would have better equipment to deal with me. He took me to the staff elevators, and up I went. I got to the 7th floor and was disoriented. Where was this triage place again? Ah, found it. I went in, and talked to the triage nurse there, who proceeded to tell me that I needed to go back downstairs to admissions.

I went back down, in the meantime sending the hubby a text message to tell him where he could find me once he got here. I overshot my floor and ended up in the basement of the hospital. Crap. Back up to the main floor. After walking around a bit disoriented, I found admissions. They did my paperwork, and back up to the 7th floor I went. As I went to catch the elevator, I caught a glimpse of what appeared to be the hubby. It was. Good thing I ran into him, because that way he'd know where to go.

Back to pre-natal triage on the 7th floor. Now with the proper paperwork, the nurse took me to a room, where I told her a bit more about my fall, she hooked up a monitor to my belly, and took my blood pressure. Then we waited. And waited. And waited.

Finally, a med student walked in to take my history. He was really nice and his bedside manner was quite good. I described the fall to him. We talked about the pregnancy and how it had been moving along normally. He asked about bowel movements (how lovely), and did an abdominal exam. He poked around, and felt where PK was hanging out, and where last night's dinner had ended up. When he told me about the location of last night's dinner, I started cracking up. Not something I would've expected to hear a med student tell me in this situation. After the exam, he said he'd talk to the senior resident and staff obstetrician, and would get back to me. More waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

Finally the senior resident rolled in with the med student in tow, and with a little portable ultrasound machine. It looked a bit like a laptop. The ultrasound machine wasn't one of those fancy ones that I normally see when I go for my regular ultrasounds. I think this was used more for eyeballing things to make sure that everything was okay. She did a pretty thorough check, pointing out lips, toes, the cerebellum, the spine, the heart, kidneys, etc. I must've been at a weird angle, because everything looked like a friggin' blob to me. The hubby said he had a pretty good view and could see everything that the resident was pointing out. I'm glad one of us could! The resident was also able to confirm that PK is in fact a girl. She said that she definitely saw a labia, so now I feel less reluctant about calling PK a she. :)

At the end of the ultrasound, the resident decided to let me go home. Normally, if a pregnant woman falls, they tend to keep her around for 4 hours, monitoring for contractions and the like, but she seemd pretty confident (especially after consulting with the staff doctor) that everything was okay. So now, here I am, back at work. PK hasn't been quite as frisky as she was this morning, but I guess that was a fair bit of excitement. Still I do feel her moving every so often as I write out this blog post. I'm just glad that I went to the hospital, just to be on the safe side. And I'm grateful that the hubby was there by my side throughout the entire ordeal. It sure made things better. Knock on wood that I don't have any more scares like this one. I'll definitely be extra-extra-vigilant now when I walk outside.