*** Crap, you guys... this was supposed to go up on Friday and I forgot to hit "Publish"! Be on the lookout for MANY catchup posts in the next couple of days -- including the nursery reveal!***
I haven't been so excited to see a Friday in a long time. The past few days have been hellish and, well... let me just start at the beginning.
I made the two-ish hour drive to east Texas on Wednesday morning for what I thought would be the last day of trial. We had closing arguments and jury instructions in the morning, and then the jury took the case for deliberation at noon-ish. Thankfully I packed a bag in case they didn't reach a verdict on Wednesday because they called it quits and headed home that afternoon.
I was so looking forward to a good night's sleep on the cushy hotel bed, but my stomach had other plans. I woke up at midnight with the same kind of blinding stomach and back pain I had experienced earlier in the pregnancy. I knew it probably had something to do with the yummy, rich, creamy sauce I ate on top of my fish at a late dinner and that, based on past experience, I'd just have to curl up in the fetal position and cry until the pain subsided several hours later.
So I did. I got approximately 1.5 hours of sleep that night before I had to wake up to get to court on Thursday morning.
As I was walking across a brick street to the courthouse the next morning, I tripped and fell. I stopped most of the fall with my knees, but my belly (being as big as it is now) did actually touch the ground. I was pretty shaken up, but Grace commenced her usual movement immediately, and I wasn't contracting or having any other troublesome symptoms. I had tripped and stumbled a few months ago, and when I called my doctor to tell her about it, she reassured me that, so long as there wasn't any decreased fetal movement, contracting, or bleeding, I had nothing to worry about. And because I had my scheduled appointment that afternoon, I didn't stress about it.
So I sat and waited on the jury until the last possible moment before I had to leave to head to Dallas for my appointment. They still hadn't rendered a verdict, but I really didn't want to miss my appointment in light of the fall, so I left.
As fate would have it, the jury came back with a verdict about 30 minutes after I left. We lost, and I'm just sick about it. It was one of those cases we definitely should have won, and I'm incredibly disappointed for the client.
So I was already down in the dumps when I got to the doctor's office to meet with one of the other doctors in my doctor's practice (she likes for us to meet the three other doctors in case she's not the person on call when I go into labor). When I mentioned that I had fallen, the new doctor sternly told me that I needed to go over to the hospital for observation. I told her what my doctor had told me in the past, but apparently she's a lot more conservative, and I immediately felt like the worst mom ever for not leaving sooner.
Before I left, she measured me and told me that she thought I was measuring two or three weeks behind (which was incredibly strange, since I've measured slightly ahead throughout the pregnancy), so she wanted to do an ultrasound. I was kind of frustrated at how badly she was freaking me out, but I was happy to have an ultrasound because I hadn't had one since I was 22 weeks.
As I expected, everything looked PERFECT with Grace, and it turns out she's actually measuring fairly large for 35 weeks (6 lbs, 7 oz. already!). Nevertheless, the doctor still wanted me to go in for observation, even though I assured her I wasn't contracting and she could clearly see how active Grace was on the monitor.
So off I went. After waiting 45 mintues to even get back to a room (good thing there wasn't a real emergency!), the watched me for 30 minutes, saw that my child is as active as she could possibly be, and sent me on my way. Praise the Lord!
So now it's Friday, and work is slow, and I'm pretty darned sure I'm leaving after lunch to go home and take a nap. I totally deserve one after the week I've had, right?