How was your Mother's Day?

Because, seriously, I think that when the fairy who comes and bestows blessings and curses on newborns stopped by my bassinet back in the hot summer of 1979, she decided that I would be one of those people struck down by pain and random ailments at really inopportune times. For example, she apparently determined that I would, nearly 29 years later, wake up suffering from excruciating kidney stone pain at 1 a.m. while 33 weeks pregnant on Mother's Day. Dude, dude, and dude.

So it was 1 a.m. on Sunday. I woke up for one of my standard nightpissings and the usual snack. I handled these matters, and limped back to bed with a big bad ache on my left side. I thought it must have been from carrying a diaper bag all day at the zoo, where we had taken Phook on Saturday. And then I remembered giving Big K the diaper bag to avoid just such a scenario. So then I assumed it was the onset of preeclampsia, and by about 2 a.m. I was online, hunched over the laptop and googling which side of your body it is that hurts like a bitch when your liver starts tanking. Turns out it's the right. And then I remembered my fun with a kidney stone last summer, and realized the pain I was in was growing to resemble that trip through hell just a little bit more every minute. I then commenced moaning and wailing and writhing and wishing for a swift end, all with the added fun of Circus pounding away at my inner parts.

Eventually, Big K woke up a bit and I told him what was up. He asked if he could be of assistance and I told him some nice massaging counterpressure would really be nice. He put his hand on my side and promptly passed back out. Oh, he woke up a couple more times and made similar attempts, but I never got more than a 30-second massage out of Captain CPAP. Around 5 a.m., just as I was fully forgetting that I was the host organism for a lovely little infant and getting ready to go drink some Drano, I decided to call the hospital. I called OB, since apparently if you contact the ER or general on-call docs when you're knocked up, they're just gonna get all weird on your ass, assume you're in labor and they're about to be sued, and you're gonna end up right back at square one, at best. So OB called the doc on call for my doc, and she called me back. She didn't seem to question my self-diagnosis on the kidney stone and pretty much told me to drink a lot of fluids, take the pregnancy-safe lameass meds I already have for my back pain, and call my doctor on Monday morning. All chill like that. I realize that was probably medically reasonable, but I was hoping for something more along the lines of, "Come right on in and I'll shoot you myself."

So I died for a few more hours, and then at 8:00, Big K got up and looked online and read somewhere that vibration can help with kidney stone pain. So he rolled me over and shoved one of those back-massager things that hook to a chair under my back and went downstairs with Phook. After about an hour or so of being assaulted by the thing, I finally passed out. The pain had subsided somewhat. At some point I called my mom and Big K called his mom and informed them that I would not be roasting a chicken on their behalf. I woke up a bit after 11:00 and moved my show of pathetic nonsense down to the couch. Phook read me some books and shit. I eventually ate some applesauce. I spent a good deal of time feeling bad for myself. My mother-in-law and brother-in-law came over. I napped on and off. Phook trashed the house. Big K did the dishes. The pain came and went, generally improving as the day wore on. I eventually decided to launder myself in my whirlpool tub, what with the vibrations it has to offer.

By the time I went to bed last night, my side pain had pretty much gone away and was replaced by a raging headache that I battled all night long and am still attempting to stave off now. With my first kidney stone, I had an attack on May 19, the pain went away until late June and then returned with a vengeance, and I ultimately had the thing surgically removed in July. So there is no telling how this will go. I might be fine for a day, a week, a month, or I may be passing a kidney stone while I give birth. As the proud owner of a urine-collection hat for the purposes of collecting 24 hours worth of my own urine for occasional protein screenings during pregnancy, I've just been peeing into that and then examining the output for a stone. Let me tell you that that is awesome when you're already pushing fluids and pregnant and waking up 49 times per night to pee. Like I'm cogent enough to handle a flimsy piece of plastic full of bodily waste. For all I know, I passed Alcatraz last night and totally missed it.

I do know that when I went to bed last night, my husband informed me that if I was going to spend another night moaning, I'd better be asleep and dreaming of him. And if I was awake, I "had better keep it down to a dull roar." I informed him that his punishment for making this statement was that I'd be blogging about it. Specifically, I said, "Good one fucker, that's on the blog," which he of course appreciated immensely.

I'm supposed to call my regular doctor today to see what she wants me to do. Honestly, I just don't want to deal with an additional medical consideration on top of the pregnancy. On account of my high blood pressure and the fact that things got a bit dicey with Phook and I partied on bed rest for a month before her birth, I have to have a bunch of extra tests to make sure Circus is still happy in his uterine home. Specifically, I have to go in for weekly NSTs starting this Thursday. I have to have an ultrasound at 36 weeks to measure the kid and the amniotic fluid level to make sure my placenta isn't bitching out. I have to collect my urine for 24-hour periods and store it in a jug in my fridge the entire time and then have it analyzed for protein. Throughout the pregnancy, my blood pressure has held steady (top number is high, bottom number is a solid 80, which is keeping my doc cool) and my protein has not been bad. My doctor religiously checks me for swelling and so far I am doing great on that front. So all this shit is just preventative peeking in on the kid to make sure he/she is happy. But, honestly, it stresses me out. Of course it will be nice to have those reassuring hours of listening to the heartbeat during the NSTs and seeing the kid on ultrasound when he/she is nearly fully cooked, but knowing that at some point things could turn up not okay and I might be whisked into the slicer dicer for a c-section is not a thought that helps me sleep soundly. And then there are the logistics of making the hour-long roundtrip, getting someone to watch Phook, waiting endlessly for my always-late doctor, and blah, blah, blah. Of course a little inconvenience is a very small price to pay for a healthy baby, but it can still make me wallow a little bit.

So, yeah, I don't know how this whole kidney stone gig is going to alter my already slightly less-than-ideal prenatal medical situation. I swear to you people that I have been paying close attention to my hydration level. And while I have definitely been keeping myself busy with baby-readying tasks, I am not recklessly avoiding my well-being in the process. If my feet and legs get really sore or tired, they go up. If I need a break, I am taking it. So, yeah, whatever. Who knows. After the first stone turned out to be comprised mostly of calcium, I had a bunch of tests done to make sure various things were working correctly, and they were. So, I'm gonna blame it on that blessing/curse fairy that shows up with her stinking wand. If you see her, can you let her know I'd like to have a chat?