The Rule of Threes

What's that ancient Chinese curse? May you live in interesting times? Things have been SO INTERESTING lately you guys. So very, very interesting. What I wouldn't give for a little boredom right about now. Been sort of preoccupied the last couple of weeks not just with work (I only have a month left before mat leave! What?!) but with local politics (the G20 debacle) and shooting pictures at the Jazz Festival. More on those things later...they're for different blog posts altogether. How about an Art Vandelay update though? Seriously, if I don't update now it'll be the kid's first birthday before I fill you in on the Third Trimester Madness. Third Trimester Madness is like Midnight Madness at your local mall but with less shoe sales and more hormone induced loose joints. That's right. Loose joints. All over your body. Thanks to a, I am sure sarcastically named hormone, "relaxin". No, you go ahead and refill your birth control prescription, I'll wait right here.

Let's go back about a month to May 30th when my Facebook status read "Well, one day in and the third trimester has been just as uneventful as the second. Hope it stays that way." Famous. Last. Words.

I had a midwife appointment scheduled for the next day and I called ahead of time to let them know that I had been dealing with severe itching in my hands and feet. Not only that, I had done a bad thing and I had googled "itchy hands and feet in pregnancy" and discovered that it could be a symptom of something more serious. Something liver related that could be ruled out with a blood test. So I called from my desk at lunch time to tell them that I had been a bad girl and had googled and could I please have that blood test tomorrow when I come in for my appointment. Just to rule it out. And by the way, had I mentioned I was sorry for googling? And my calm midwife says to me, over the phone, "how soon can you meet me at the hospital?"

Oh. I see. This is karma for not having thrown up at all during the first trimester. I had just learned about my friend's sister who threw up so violently and so often that she cracked a rib during her first trimester. I dry heaved once. And as a result I was now faced with "how soon can you meet me at the hospital?"

One absolutely hellish hour later The Robeau and I were at the hospital and I was strapped into some sort of fetal monitor thing undergoing the ironically named "non-stress test". After three hours in OB Triage we were assured that the condition, ICP, which sadly does not stand for Insane Clown Posse but for Intrahepatic Cholestasis of Pregnancy was very serious but manageable if monitored...and that they weren't sure yet if I even had it. The definitive yes or no would have to wait three weeks, as it turns out, because there is only one lab in the entire province that can do the necessary blood test.

I will omit the angsty hand and feet itching that went on for the next three weeks and tell you that all is well and Vandelay and I are Insane Clown Posse free. Apparently the test came back 100% normal. Sometimes you just have itchy hands and feet. I have to say though, how lucky I feel that we are getting the kind of care we are from our midwives and from the doctor who was on call at the hospital that afternoon (it took me a while to warm up to him, but in the end he was really great). The frustrating part was dealing with hospital bureaucracy. The day after the initial tests we were ordered to come in for an ultrasound and holy hell, what a bunch of finger pointing, do nothing right, take no responsibility a-holes we had to deal with. What should have taken maybe 30 minutes took all day. I love our health care system in Canada, I really do, but wow, that was an exercise in frustration.

Since that time things have been uneventful. There is the swelling and the heartburn and the loose joints and the lovely summer cold I've had for over a week - but really, I signed up for all of that. And at least I haven't cracked a rib.