If you are my mother or one of my family members who really don’t want to know anything too personal … stop reading.
You have been warned.
Okay. So, this pregnancy has been going relatively smoothly so far, except that I have two children to care for and one of them weighs 25 pounds and still has to be carried a lot. Every other week or so since I first found out I was pregnant, I’ll have a day where I just overdo it and start spotting a little. Not enough to cause me to rush off to the E.R., but any amount of spotting isn’t normal. So I lie down and make Husband take care of the kids, and it goes away.
Anyway, I mentioned it at my last appointment. I should tell you here that I love my new doctor. It was nerve-wracking to have to find a new one when we moved back to Louisiana, but a good friend recommended Dr. Boudreaux. I find it charming to have a cajun-sounding gynecologist now that I have returned to my roots.
On my first visit I immediately liked her so much that I decided to ask her after my exam if I should be concerned about my insides falling out. “Uterine prolapse?” she asked. Yes … that’s right. PROLAPSE. Because having three children is no joke and surely all this childbearing is doing a number on my insides.
She won me over when she laughed (not condescendingly) and assured me I was in no danger of any sort of pr — as a matter of fact — everything in there was still, and I quote, “quite high up.”
For this reason alone, she will be my gynecologist forever. It was the closest thing to flattery I have experienced with my feet in stirrups.
So back to my original topic: the spotting. At my last appointment, I mentioned it to her casually and she immediately sat up straight and started asking questions. No, I never had this with my first child. I had a miscarriage after that pregnancy, which she noted from my chart. With the next child, I did spot a few times. I’ve spotted more already with this pregnancy than I did with the last one. And so she said words sent straight from Heaven above: “You are on pelvic rest. No sex for 4 weeks. Once you’re out of your first trimester, you can resume.”
I knew Husband wouldn’t be thrilled. Of course he wants me to be healthy and the baby as well … but let’s be honest. The news made him grumpy. And then after a few days, he started getting super grumpy and asking questions like, “Did she REALLY say 4 weeks?” And then the following conversation took place:
Husband: Did she REALLY say 4 weeks?
Me: YES. Geez. Why would I lie about this?
Husband: I’m just making sure.
Me: If you don’t watch it, I‘ll tell her at my next appointment that the spotting has continued.
Husband: Yeah, well … the dentist hasn’t put you on any kind of restriction.
Hopefully, our irreverent sense of humor will make the next 7 months bearable. Ridiculous statements about how nothing is wrong with my mouth (except what comes out of it) make me LAUGH.
Laughter and pelvic rest really is the best medicine for a tired mommy who isn’t allowed to have any wine.