I never want to see my name on a tag like this again except for when I give birth. I am about to share the most painful moment of my life. Johnny and I have been living in Beal and Micah's basement for the past month. It's awesome. For child-care purposes alone, it has been a life saver. Our kids play together during the day and then when they are asleep, either set of parents can slip out relying on the other set of parents for fire duty. You know, when in the case of a fire, you are responsible for making sure all of the occupants of the home make it out safely.
So one night I wake up with discomfort in my stomach. Scotty has been kicking north lately, pushing my stomach into my throat. I can't eat a normal size portion of food, so I eat fairly constantly throughout the day in small amounts so I don't feel uncomfortable. I went upstairs to the kitchen and grabbed a cheese stick, thinking for some reason that it would settle my stomach to have something in there. I also drank a large glass of water. The pain did not go away and I tried to go back downstairs and sleep. Not happening.
The pain simply increased more and more until I woke Johnny up and asked him for a blessing. I was instructed to listen to my body and take care of it. The pain continued to persist so we both went back upstairs and I paced the room trying to stretch out my stomach. The pain took my breath away and was so persistent. I thought for sure my appendix had burst and I was suffering from toxins being let loose into my system. I told Johnny to drive me to the hospital. Totally awesome to just leave our sleeping kids because I was in incredible amounts of pain. I have never been in pain in child birth (thank you, all the German physicians who laid the groundwork for epidurals as I know them today). I have had a blood clot and that used to reign supreme as the most painful experience of my life. Move over, coagulation. Here comes heartburn.
That's right. Heartburn. I get to the hospital writhing in pain and I was positive I was going to go into surgery and kiss my appendix, or whatever pieces were left of it, goodbye. After an excruciating 30 minutes of checking to make sure the baby was okay, the doctor gave me a couple ounces of thick chalky substance and then some morphine. The official diagnosis was gastritis. The acid in my stomach was eating away at the lining of my stomach, hence the persistent and excruciating pain. I was so embarrassed, but could have kissed the nurse after administering the stuff because finally, the pain went away. I keep thinking about it, wondering if I was making it all up, but after a second attack in Park City, I was reminded of how crippling and painful it was. Yikes. Just thinking about it scares me.
Thank goodness for doctors and pain medicine and relief. Goodbye spicy food, at least for the duration of this pregnancy. I don't know if I'm brave enough to try after Scotty is born, but I think I have to try and just be prepared with the Pepto. Goodbye, name tags on my wrist and I don't want to ever see you again except for giving birth to children.