Monday, March 16, 2009

Week 30

And the week started so well...

On Monday, we woke up and went down to Allen Auto Sales and bought a shiny new Prius! We had talked a lot about it and we basically took it for a short test drive to make sure our stroller fit and we were good to go. About an hour later the car was ours!

That afternoon we drove to St. Louis in our new ride to stay with my dear friend's Aunt Debbie since our flight for Cancun left at 6am the next morning. We got to Cancun safely and hung out on the beach, which was lovely. The next morning we woke up early and claimed a nice little cabana and read and napped and just generally enjoyed the waves and the sun.

It was all going to so well until Wednesday night when I woke up not feeling so great. I'm sure we all know the common result of going to Mexico so I won't go into the gory details. I was fine most of the day on Thursday and I talked to my midwife who encouraged me to stay hydrated and just it pass. However, as it got dark, we both got worried that we should call a doctor since we were supposed to fly out first thing in the morning on Friday. So, a doctor came to our room and said I wasn't dehydrated but that it might be a good idea to go to the hospital to get IV fluids to speed my recovery. He said it would take 4-6 hours.

Well, we get to the hospital, which was very nice, and the doctor came in and said he wanted to admit me. He basically said we had to do what he said or we wouldn't get the Free to Fly form that was required to go home. Of course, it didn't matter because we missed our flight had to reschedule for Saturday as there was only one flight to St. Louis a day. They ended up keeping me until late Friday afternoon and finally let me go after I'd flipped out on several staff members and kept making a stink until they let me go. Our discharge papers described me as "muy delicato."

We made it safely home the next day but alas the babymoon that went bust will not go quietly away. Why do you ask? Because the night of admission, the doctor ordered what seemed like an unnecessary ultrasound. At first I was excited to see the baby again, that was until the tech announced it was a boy.

That's right - little penis and scrotum. A boy.

So, that brings the grand total to two ultrasounds saying it's a girl and one saying it's a boy. Isn't that so much fun!?! Oh wait, no it's not fun. It's ridiculous. But don't worry we're going to hopefully add a fourth to the list on Friday that will hopefully settle the matter once and for all.

Stay tuned.


Geoffrey said...

If it really is a boy, you HAVE to name him Pancho.

dylan said...

If I've learned anything, it's never to trust a Mexican ultrasound while muy delicata from Montezuma's Revenge. I thought there was a whole chapter on that lesson in What To Expect When You're Expecting?

heather said...

Oh, Sarah. What a crazy week.My thoughts are with you. Take care, and I hope that you and Baby H are well, no matter what the gender.

If it is a boy, then the techs of the first two ultrasounds soooo owe you a couple of gallons of blue paint and some toy trucks. I've never seen that as any sort of damages award, but it would make sense... ;)