August 14, 2014

I had my second appointment with Lori today. And despite the fact that my blood pressure was a lovely 102/60 on Monday, it was 130/82 today. As Lori put it, high for me although not so high that she was worried.

I’m not sure why it was high. Maybe I was a little dehydrated. Maybe it was the stress from this weird nightmare I had a couple of nights ago. It was one of those dreams that you don’t remember when you wake up. It wasn’t about anything in particular. I was in my bedroom. And I’d been warned of something that was coming. Something bad. And when I woke up, I couldn’t remember what the horrible thing was that was coming; all I could remember was the dread. One of those nightmares when you have to turn on all of the lights to banish the shadows.

Anyway, the plan was to take my blood pressure again at the end of the appointment, after we had the reassurance of hearing the heartbeat.

Except Lori couldn’t find the heartbeat. And, of course, she grew equally frustrated and nervous as my mom and I grew closer to a panic. I mean, I should be having symptoms of a miscarriage if there was no heartbeat, right? And I wasn’t; I’m not. So there should be a heartbeat. But she couldn’t find it.

To the ultrasound machine it was. Fortunately, Diana was patient-less at the moment, so she could do a quick sonogram. The first thing she said was “There’s a heartbeat.”

The little thing was curled up in about the tightest fetal position you can imagine and hiding behind the slight prolapse my uterus currently has. There was no way that Lori was going to be able to pick up the heartbeat with her little machine.

A relief, but I can only imagine how high my blood pressure must have been by the end of my appointment! Lori’s response? If she doesn’t hear the heartbeat at my 16-week appointment, she’s first in line to give this kid a smack after it’s born.


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