an intestinal virus. That's what. And it hit me like an express train at about 11 p.m. on Friday night. You can guess that the rest of this post will be chock full of TMI.
I went out on Friday and had Japanese food with The Captain and some friends. I had one little teeny sliver of seared fish amidst all the tempura, hot rolls and teriyaki chicken. Don't worry, they'll be back later.
I woke up close to 11 p.m. and something was amiss. I sprinted to the kitchen sink (because it's closer than the bathroom) and thus began about 7 hours of :insertcrescendoofscarymusichere: DOUBLE DRAGON.
I was terrified that this violent sickfest was going to dislodge the babeh (irrational? yes) or physically traumatize her in some other way, or that the Del Taco I'd had for lunch, or that sliver of seared fish had given me some food-borne illness that would harm her in some other way. Turns out intestinal bugs are pretty common and listed in all my 'All About Your Pregnancy' books, wherein, I was basically instructed to rest and take plenty of fluids and not worry about the baby.
SHE was going to be fine. I, on the other hand, was perched over or on a toilet for hours in the fifth ring of hell. (I'm not even going to go where that pun could take me. Not gonna do it.)
By Sunday morning I was feeling almost 100% better, bizarre since at 3 a.m. on Friday I was envisioning an Emergency Room and intravenous drip.
Then this morning, Six Year Old Stepson allayed my food-borne illness fears, although belatedly, by puking all over the place. WELCOME TO THE 24 HOUR STOMACH FLU!
Usually the illness sequence in our house starts with him, but with my immune system being the most compromised at this point I was the instigator this time. I'm kind of proud...
Later this morning The Captain and I went to the 22 wk ultrasound. He was rear-ended on the way to our appointment driving our Ford Tank. He and the Tank are absolutely fine. The Toyota however, was not. Ford-1 Toyota- 0.
My mama came with us to this ultrasound. It was so fun to see her see the baby. She squealed, for lack of a better word, 'OH IS THAT THE PICKLE!' when the baby first made her on-screen appearance and was pretty blown away by the images we have access to now. Sidenote: We called the baby The Pickle for the first few months before she became a She. Don't ask.
The baby looks perfect, everything looks perfect. Her heart is incredible to see in that perfection, the rhythm and the strength of it. I love the beautiful intricacy of her flawless spine and watching her hands and feet move. She yawned in there. That was so freakin cute.
I am deeply relieved that all is well after our harrowing weekend.
Okay it wasn't that harrowing, but it sure felt like it at the time. Once again, The Captain kept me calm and eased my fears as much as he could. He took care of me like a champ. Every day, I'm reminded that I picked exactly the right Captain.
The Little Imp was pretty mellow in there during the appointment, pretending to be all sweet and calm, like she doesn't kick and punch the crap out of me all day long.... deeevious...