Why is Your Blood Pressure so High?

These words, on March 14th, started a chain of events that culminated on March 16th, SIX MONTHS AGO(!), with this:

As some of you may be aware, I am a CPA (I can hear the, "dude, really?  I had no idea?") and the first four and half months of the year are like boot camp for a Ricki Lake wayward teen show participant.  It kicks your ass six ways to Tuesday and then some.  It's brutal.  And I love it.  When I found out I was pregnant, I can remember with amazing clarity the pit of fear that over took me when I counted up the months.  I realized what a shitstorm this would unleash at the office, and I dreaded telling my bosses. 

How fitting was it that I went to tell my husband I was pregnant at the pool hall with some books?  Of course, he was ecstatic, even though it was something we had only talked about.  But here was a stick that said "pregnant" on it.  There was no "not" in front of it, my worst college fear realized.  And books!  So it must be real!   And lots more exclamation points!  I couldn't believe that it was actually happening.  It was ahead of schedule!  We weren't ready!

But we were.  We told all of our family, and no one else.  At the first doctors appointment we were going to have an ultrasound and if we saw that everything was ok, I would break it to the bosses.  After my annual tune up (with TP in the room, which was odd), we were off to the ultrasound room with good results.  I was having a pretzel stick.  With a beating heart.  There was a heart in there.  And it was going to be surrounded by a bunch of other stuff and be a baby.  A Baby.  That was going to have to eventually come out of my body.  And live in my house.  And ask me for money.  And God, I wanted for it to be here NOW.   

D-day was the next day, and it went better than expected with my bosses.  They were not as mortified as I had envisioned and we came up with a game plan to try and get as much work done as possible before my due date. 

I wasn't sick, I never felt bad, the gender ultrasound went well (I had a stern talk with the baby beforehand and said in no uncertain terms that the goods had better be shown).  On Halloween, we found out we were having a boy.  When we were all sure it was a girl.  When the tech said "it's a boy," the look of surprise that passed between us was electric.  I was ready to start buying all those tiny baby clothes in the appropriate colors.  But the baby had no name.  When people asked us what the name was going to be, they were met with blank stares.  The front runners were Clifford the Big Red Dog, T-Rex and Bucket, as suggested by TP's nursery school classroom. 

The bedding was purchased, we bought (another) new car, the crib and other furniture finally showed up.  We had baby showers.  And more baby showers, and we got so many nice, cute things and it was more than we deserved.  Work was getting busier and busier and it was closing in on March 15th.  Our biggest tax return was the main concern.  No one else in the office had done it before.  We were working feverishly to get it completed. 

My doctor's appointments started getting closer and closer together.  And I worked harder and harder.  I believe at some point the words "work horse" were thrown around. 

On March 14th I went in for my first internal visit and sat down in the blood pressure chair.  Since this was my first visit with one of the other doctors in the practice, I had a new nurse.  When the machine beeped, my blood pressure was about 365/186.  Or something like that.  When the nurse asked me what that could be from, I just shook my head. 

Then the doctor came in.  And did things that were a precursor to the indignities I would suffer in the following days.  They took my blood pressure a half dozen more times, hooked me up to the fetal monitor in this tiny closet room.  My doctor came in and took over.  She told me that we were playing with fire, and that I should either go to the hospital that afternoon or the next , and I wasn't allowed to go back to work.  Then I waited for an hour for an ultrasound in a room of women who were still wearing pants that were not predominately elastic. 

I told the tech that if it wasn't a boy, she should keep it to herself , because I might have a nervous breakdown.  She said it really was a boy and that I had nothing to worry about.  She printed out a picture of him.  He looked like a Peanuts character. 

I had to go outside to call TP to tell him what was going on.  After explaining that we were going to have to go to the hospital the next afternoon and in two days we were going to have a baby, the first words out of his mouth were, "I guess we need a name, huh?"  He was shell shocked.  I hadn't had very much time to adjust to the thought of it being NOW, either.  The urgency that that doctor seemed to feel was lost on me.  Didn't I have a few more weeks?  A little more time to wrap my head around this baby business.  It wasn't time!  I still had thank you notes to write from my shower the week before!  Crap! CRAP! CRAP!

So, against doctor's orders, I went back to the office for a few minutes to hand out my work.  At this point I had been gone about 4 hours, and both my bosses were gone.  I think they had gotten the picture, they were probably at home crying.  Then I went home to wait.  And take a nap.  A big nap.

Tune in tomorrow for the grand finale. 

Comments

[CPA Mom]

my god woman, how big was he?? I have so got to post the picture of my belly with eeyore. I can top that belly. teeheehehehe

[starrynite]

Wow, looking forward to hearing the rest! Love me some baby stories. Ugh, I really am getting broody. Need to find a man first though, that's the tricky part. Haha xx

[Samantha Jo campen]

Hello happy tattoo!

You've literally raised my blood pressure wanting to find out the ending!!!

[Mrs. CPA]

I was sort of disapointed that my belly button never popped out. That picture is from the day we left for the hospital.

[CPA Mom]

My belly button never popped out either and I was disappointed too. And no one could understand why I was disappointed. I was all like, how do you know he (she) is done if you don't pop?

[Silly Hily]

My belly button never popped either. Thank goodness. I think it would have freaked me out.
I applaud you for posting that belly pic.