Dean and Henry and I all went to Urgent Care on Saturday after I’d done some internet searching and decided we likely had bronchitis and might not get better without an antibiotic. They couldn’t really tell whether what we have is viral or bacterial, but since Henry’s a little guy and I’m pregnant, they gave both of us a prescription for Amoxicillin in case it’s bacterial. (Dean decided to see if he gets better without antibiotics.) I think the medicine is helping; we’re marginally better, if definitely not back to the full bloom of health yet. Henry is running around and full of energy, which is a great sign, but he’s also still crusty-nosed and coughing and wheezing, as am I. (And I am NOT running around and full of energy.)
Then, both at Urgent Care on Saturday and today at my prenatal checkup, my blood pressure was high, and, while it could be caused by the stress of sickness, they have to treat it as a possible pre-eclampsia symptom, SO: they did a 20-minute fetal monitoring today at the visit (the baby’s vitals looked great,) AND I’ll be doing a 24-hour urine collection AND bloodwork AND I have to go back in on Thursday morning to follow up on the labwork and monitor the baby again. (The midwife clinic I go to is 25 minutes away.) Trying to fit this in with all my other commitments this week (including some I rescheduled from last week) and take care of my kids and even get ready for the baby is just more than I can do, so I’m just having to tell myself that keeping me and the baby healthy is the most important thing and EVERYTHING else can slide. Easy to tell myself, harder to really believe, but I’m trying. Looks like I’ll be doing even more canceling and rescheduling. At least I have a little bit of a voice for talking on the phone now, although off and on it still hurts to talk.
There was some good news, though: the baby’s head is down now, and likely to stay that way. She’s still floating high (and was kicking me like CRAZY while they were monitoring her) but at least she’s not giving me cause to worry about a breech c-section.
I’ve been pretty emotionally fragile this week, too. While I was waiting at the midwife clinic, I started flipping through a parenting magazine and was reading something about how babies start to notice external social cues more around 6 months old, rather than just “internal cues, such as being cold or hungry” and I nearly burst into tears, thinking “Oh, I’m so sorry, sweetie, I’m bringing you to a place where you’ll sometimes be cold, and sometimes be hungry, and sometimes have nasty bronchitis and a horrible sore throat!” Only later when I was driving home did I remind myself that I’m also giving her the chance to run in the grass and play with siblings and experience lots of other joy and pleasure that comes with mortality.