It started out as a "normal" Saturday; as "normal" as any Saturday can be entertaining the activities of 4 and 5-year old girls. We had a FULL day planned: Soccer Game, 4-D Ultrasound to see Baby Mason, Birthday Party at Puzzles Fun Dome and finally a Fall Bash with friends at work.
As I said, "The day started off pretty normally." The girls and I arrived at the SW YMCA as usual to kick around the soccer ball before the game started. Doing so, the girls decided to kick EVERY ball into the goal. I was behind the soccer goal when my tennis shoe became caught in the net. Unfortunately, before I knew it, I was on the ground. Luckily, I didn't fall on my stomach. Instead, I hit smack dab on my bottom-end. I instantly felt pain. Another dad came running over and picked me up off the ground; needless to say, I was stuck. I managed to walk over to the porter potty-- no blood (thank God.) I then made my way over to my chair--Mason began to move (thank God again.) Still, I was in quite a bit of pain. So, I called my OB's office. Because I am RH Negative (Marty is O positive and I am O negative,) and just received my rogam shot on Thursday, Dr. Schweichler wanted to see me right away. So, Marty came (driving EXTREMELY fast on the Watterson Expressway,) and rushed me to Norton Suburban, to the Triage floor. This was not a pleasant place to be. They instantly put me in a gown, took my blood, and asked me about 100 questions (have I ever had an STD...Have you miscarried... did you have vaginal deliveries with an epidural...) Mason was holding strong. His heartbeat averaged in the 140's and mine, well, I was hardly phased. After Mom and Melvin showed up and two hours later due to the detailed examination of my blood to ENSURE Mason's did not mix with mine, I was released. It was determined that I most likely broke my tailbone- nice; I'm sure this will feel mighty good come labor and delivery time in 8-10 weeks. Regardless, I'm so thankful everything ended up the way it did. It could have been so much worse. Had Mason been born, he would have weighed no more than a pound or pound and a half and he would have fit in Marty's hand. This is what went through my mind as the nurse told us what would occur if the placenta had torn and Mason's blood did indeed mix with mine; my body would have "attacked" and they would have had to deliver the baby or I could have potentially died; Mason would have been extremely preemie. Seriously?
Imagine our relief when we found I was not dilated and everyone was okay; namely baby boy.
No more soccer for Mommy! I promise...
