Dumb Da Dumb Dumb
I started getting pains in my abdomen part way to our destination, but chalked it up to being cramped up in the car on a shitty road, and having a baby using my bladder as a trampoline.
So no worries, we get to our destination, unload into our hotel room, the husband leaves with the groom to do "bachelor stuff" and some last minute prep while I sprawl out on the bed, trying to relieve some of the pressure in my abdomen.
That evening we go to the rehearsal, then the rehearsal dinner, then back to the hotel to decorate for the reception, and then crawl into bed around midnight. After a fitful night of dozing, it becomes apparent that my stomach pain is not going away - but I can feel Butterbean moving, so I'm not too worried. After breakfast with the groom, he and the husband drop me back at the hotel and I attempt to sit at the desk in our room and do some of the work I brought with me. A half hour later I realize I'm not paying attention anyways, because my stomach hurts so much.
I strip down (you know, I thought I liked being naked before I was pregnant, but now it is pure bliss to take off all my restrictive clothing and crawl under the blankets - heavenly even) and get back into bed for the 3.5 hours until I have to get ready for the wedding. I get through the wedding - which was beautiful and moving and a tear-jerker - but nearly double over every time I stand up because of the stabbing pains when I stretch out.
After the wedding I head back to the hotel to lay down again, waiting for the reception to start at 6pm. If I lay completely still I don't seem to notice the pain as much, but being almost 7 months pregnant I need to move every few minutes for fear of one of my extremities falling asleep and being unable to move permanently.
The reception isn't too bad, as I'm mostly sitting in one place, and the husband is getting up from the head table to bring me water and sprite and dessert. But around 10:30 I'm noticing a tightness in my stomach again and he walks me back down the hall to our room.
That night I have another fitful sleep, and am awakened around 5am to stabbing pains on the left side of my stomach. I cover my mouth so as not to wake the husband, and when it goes away a minute later I fall back to sleep. Twice more I wake up like this before he wakes up. Then he goes out to plug in our car before we leave (it is bloody cold around here right now!) and comes back to the room to find me sitting up in a chair, holding my stomach and crying uncontrollably. He goes white and is in front of me in two seconds, asking what's wrong and I'm saying maybe we should go to the ER.
Then the pain lets up a bit and I decide to call my mom and ask her what she thinks. I wake her up, and she keeps telling me that because of where the pain is she's thinking it might have to do with all the scar tissue from my ectopic, and Butterbean stretching everything out - but tells me I should go to the ER anyways, all they can do is reassure me.
However, all I had heard about since getting to this town was the scary hospitals, making me a little scared to go. I decided that we should get on the road, to the next town which is quite a bit bigger and only an hour away, and go to the hospital there.
The husband is freaked, obviously, and now I'm trying to calm him down and tell myself that everything is fine. We get on the road, and besides the occasional stab when we hit a bump or something, the pain isn't too bad. We decide that we'll just keep stopping and stretching at every town all the way back to Winnipeg, and if I have any more major pain, we'll just head into whichever hospital we're close to.
So...now here I sit at work, I've spoken to my doctor's office (she's not in today) and have an appointment tomorrow afternoon. The receptionist made me swear up and down that I'd go straight to the ER should I have any more stabbing pains before my appointment tomorrow. My stomach is generally sore all over, and I'm still having the occasional stab on the left side of my belly, but I'm in my total dumb mode now - I keep thinking that I'm just being silly, the pain isn't really that bad, and that I'm overeacting, and I'm sure everything is fine, especially because Butterbean is moving around like a wild child - but for my own piece of mind, and the husband's (and my mom's) I know I should have just went to the ER yesterday.
Jeez! People go to emerg for papercuts, why can't I make myself go for something like this?