All in all it was a great evening. As we walked home I told Paul that I thought it was the most fun we'd had since we got to Florida...
I felt great. I'd been feeling some pain on and off from one of the cysts earlier in the day, but nothing that really worried me. Then I went into the bathroom and discovered that I was spotting, more heavily than the incident five weeks ago. I called Paul and asked him to watch the girls and went into the master bathroom and sat in the tub and cried, pretty much hysterically, for about an hour. I told myself I had to pull it together, walked into the closet to find some clothes, saw the Moses basket I'd pulled out last week, and cried for another five minutes.
After a few deep breaths I reminded myself that I needed to stop crying. Earlier this week I told Paul I was feeling a little nauseous and was going to lay down a bit longer before dinner and Sadie burst into tears at the dinner table and cried for five minutes before telling me she was scared the baby was sick. She remembers vividly the three months I was sick last time (it's really scary for a little kid to have mommy start hemorrhaging while walking around the house on a more than weekly basis) and if I lay down to rest the first thing she'll say is: "Mommy, are you feeling well?" And while she doesn't remember that I wasn't really sick until after we lost the baby, she does equate me being sick with us losing the last baby.
While crying hysterically I'd thought pretty much non-stop about whether or not I'd go in (while simultaneously pleading with God: "not again, not again, not again..."). I felt stupid going in. It wasn't like I thought they'd be able to do anything if there was a problem. My own doctor, yes (or at least I know she'd try), but the ER? And of course it had to happen on a Friday night just after the office closed.
Still the idea of not knowing, all weekend was unbearable. I would go crazy. That kind of stress couldn't be good for either one of us. Besides things had gone wrong so fast last time and this seemed to be starting in exactly the same way... And so I began to drive.
After more blood tests they told me everything was perfect except my potassium level (which is pretty much the story of my life... my potassium is perpetually low) and after giving me a giant horse-sized potassium pill (and hearing some very interesting It's-Friday-Night-in-the-ER conversations and deciding that every nurse in the area had to be a saint in the making for their incredible patience) I was told it was another threatened miscarriage, that I should see my doctor when the office reopens and then I was sent, feeling greatly relieved, on my way.
I think I'm going to be taking it very easy this weekend. I guess I just need to get used to the fact that spotting seems to be a normal part of this pregnancy and not panic at the sight of blood. My main barrier to that is that I never had spotting during my two healthy pregnancies, and so my only experience with it was the miscarriage, which obviously turned out horribly. But they tell me that spotting isn't abnormal during pregnancy, so I guess I just need to keep that in mind before I burst into hysterical tears.
That's the latest, rather drama filled update. Can I put in a request for an easy 6 1/2 months from here on out? I'm up for the normal aches and pains and discomforts of being pregnant... but I'm also ready to not be panicked on a fairly regular basis!