So Friday night we had a scare. I called the doctor's office and got the doctor on call (not my usual doc), who told me I was probably fine and to settle down, and told me also to take it easy, keep down with my feet up, and not do any heavy lifting. He told me to call my doctor Monday morning.
I called my doctor on Monday morning. He told me to take it easy, keep down with my feet up, not do any heavy lifting or housework, and call him Wednesday morning.
So I called first thing this morning, and haven't had a call back yet. I think that the baby and I are okay -- although I'd rather he had brought me in to confirm that -- because symptoms fell off rapidly and were gone by Sunday, and I feel... well, um, pregnancy-great, which means "pretty gross" to the rest of you. Sore boobs, nausea, sleepiness. When that's the stuff that reassures you, you can understand that the brain gets a little crazy.
And I'm still waiting to find out if AIM approves me. It ought to, but damn, it needs to get on with it. Yesterday I should have received notification; they are supposed to respond within 10 days of getting the application. But maybe they don't check their P.O. Box every day. I'm giving them until tomorrow before I start making phone calls. Maybe.
I am also trying to knit a wool soaker. Do you have any idea how tiny these things are? The waistband is like a wrist-band. So. Tiny.
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1 comment:
Isn't all that ickiness (sore, sick, sleepy) wonderfully reassuring? Wish the doctors could think of more to add to the reassurance cause though (perhaps that is what the nonchalance is supposed to convey).
Strange how excited you can become to jump into the gynecological Lazy-boy when the wee thing is growing inside...
Thinking about you!
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