I started to write this last night, but I was so upset that I couldn’t find the words.
I got home yesterday around 4:30, same as usual. I checked the voicemail, and I had a message from my OB’s office. They said that they needed to reschedule my appointment. For the record, they left the message at 4:00 p.m. – approximately 22 hours before my actual appointment time. My heart sank before I called them back, I knew it wasn’t going to be happy news.
Apparently the ultrasound tech is going to be out all afternoon. No explanation, she’s just out of the office. I’m assuming it’s some kind of emergency – or at least, it better be for them to bump me at the last minute like that. They rescheduled me for Thursday afternoon at 2:00.
I managed to hold back the floodgate of tears until after I hung up the phone, which is not easy with all these crazy hormones. I tried to call Dave, but he didn’t answer his office phone and he had left his cell at the house. (I heard it ring downstairs when I tried to call him. I’m working on trying to make him remember that he needs to be a bit more reachable in case of emergencies, because my worst nightmare is that I’ll go into labor at some point and have to drive myself to the damn hospital because he won’t call me back until four hours later.)
Since I couldn’t get in touch with Dave, I tried my mom. I didn’t get nearly the sympathetic response that I wanted. I just got the, “well, I had to wait 9 months to find out. And anyway, it’s only two more days, big deal!” She also reminded me that the only reason I was crying about it was because I’m pregnant – which, thank you, I know that’s true, but that isn’t helpful, Mom.
Dave called me back about an hour or so later, by which time I had long since glued my ass to the couch and had several off-and-on crying jags. I cried again when I told him, and got the same, “oh well, it’s only two more days!” chipper response. I think he and my mom both were honestly trying to make me feel better, but… argh.
The thing is, I know it’s not that huge a delay, but it feels like forever when I’ve been counting it down since the day I found out I was pregnant. Which, for the record, was 15 weeks ago. So I know it’s not the end of the world. I’m just really upset about it right now.
Last night, I even left a couple of messages with some random ultrasound places in the area to see about their openings. Apparently my OB doesn’t have a 4-D ultrasound, and I had been thinking that I wanted to get some of those groovy high-quality pictures at some point anyway, so I figured what the hell. Unfortunately, my insurance won’t cover it if I go to one of those places, and I have no idea how much it costs. And none of them have called me back yet.
So. It seems as though I’m stuck waiting until Thursday. And also? There goes my plan for Dave’s Big Birthday Surprise.
Aside to Dave: Happy 35th birthday, sweetie. I’m sorry I was such a grump last night (and still a grump this morning). I’m working on it. But I love you, and I hope you have a fantastic birthday.