Mother's Day weekend
The end of April and the beginning of May are always a busy time in our household. And forget about the whole month of August. In the world of the college life staff, there are definite crazy busy times and long periods of (somewhat) relaxation. Instead of just two days off for Christmas, my husband luckily has a month of "light-duty" and a full week completely off of work. Spring break. Fall break. Summer vacation! All periods of "down-time."'
But there are two periods of time at the beginning and end of the school year that require "all hands on deck."
Move in. And move out.
Move out usually falls the first weekend in May, just after finals week, and then there's the rush of ....shudder.... commencement.
It's always hot. It requires a tie. It's early morning set-up and a late night the night before. It wears my husband out!
So it's a good thing that we had a minor medical crisis, Mother's Day, some babysitting snafus, and a dead owl.
We just found out that we're having a girl on Wednesday. After a half hour ultrasound, hour in the waiting room, and at least another half hour with the doctor, two visits to car dealerships, and dinner at Red Robin, the longest day out had finally come to a close. I made sure to tell the doctor that I was having some cramping and a few random contractions, but she wasn't really worried and told me to prop up my feet and drink lots of water.
On Friday, at 1:30pm, the contractions started. Tater Tot and I were outside playing so I decided to go inside, switch the laundry to the dryer, and prop my feet up while Tot watched a Blue's Clues tape. I drank my water. I tried to relax.
Then the doorbell rang. And the laundry needed switched again. And the dishwasher needed to be loaded before dinner. And then it was time to wrestle the baby alligator for a diaper change and nap.
The contractions continued. Small. Uneven. Sporadic. And only half-way through my pregnancy...
Get ready for work, eat dinner, work a lousy shift for four hours with more contractions and lower back pains. I called the doctor's answering service and waited almost 2 HOURS for the doctor to call me back. When the on-call doctor finally did, of course I was closing my register and couldn't answer. I called him on my way home and he told me to come into the hospital 45 minutes away. It was already 10:15pm.
I call my loving Spud and tell him that my suspicions earlier were right and the doctor wanting me to come into the hospital. Had he found someone to babysit, like I asked earlier?
"What?! I have to be up at 7am for graduation!"
I lost it. That's it buddy! I've been having contractions for 9 hours with a severely premature fetus and something is wrong! We have to go to the hospital!
After a long car ride, tests, blood drawn, ultrasounds, and monitoring, they decided nothing was wrong and no contractions were being picked up. I wasn't dilated so the baby was not coming tonight and nothing else was wrong. We picked up some cheeseburgers and headed home at 2am.
Then we hit an owl.
Punchdrunk and exhausted, we hit a owl that swooped out of the night sky and he exploded all over the highway. He was so big, I thought it was a small deer (and am still slightly convinced it was a deer). We finally get to bed at 3am and poor Spud had to wake up early the next morning for graduation.
The next day was a bit of a mess and I didn't rest like I was supposed to, and surely felt it that night. More contractions. Take an anti-contraction pill and try to rest until the next day when I had to go to work. The next day just so happened to be Mother's Day.
We had accepted that it was Mother's Day and I wasn't going to be able to do all of the things that we wanted to do because of work, but that was ok. We would celebrate the next day and it would still be special, no matter what day it was.
I ended up coming home sick after two hours at work because the anti-contraction pills were lowering my blood pressure and making me feel like I was going to faint. Instead of resting and being pampered on Mother's Day, I woke up early with the Tot, took care of her most of the day, put her to bed, and felt like hell.
No presents today. Or the next day. No card or special dinner either. No real mention of the day at all from my family.
It was a bad weekend, to say the least. On Monday, I broke down and got really upset because Spud said he didn't have time to work on my present so he was just going to ruin the surprise and tell me what it was anyways. I told him that I didn't want him to "buy" something but he could "make" or "do" something for me - or for our family. We could "go" somewhere, but he didn't have to spend a lot of money on something I didn't need.
He finally made a really cute growth chart for me with Tot at 30 inches and places for pictures of her at 3 feet, 3.5 feet, etc. and a picture of both of us at the top that said 'Mommy & Me.' It was pink and green and fit in Tater Tot's room perfectly - and promptly fell off the wall the next day.
It has yet to be put back up. I appreciate the effort though. :-/
Small Fry has calmed down and is being a much better girl. Turns out, I had an infection that made her unhappy and caused contractions. An anti-biotic and another round of fetal monitoring later, we determined this little girl is just a feisty baby who needs to get a spanking once she's born!