Hell week

I'll try to keep in short and sweet. Its starts: I'm completely psyched for Monday. I've been waiting, not very patiently, to learn the sex of my baby. I finally got squeezed in at Dartmouth and I was just about bouncing off the walls all weekend awaiting my appointment. So I get to the hospital, with two kids and no assistance mind you, I get to the ultrasound department and get taken in almost right away. Yippee yippee. So I get in the room and lay on the bed. She starts gooping me and rolling the wand thing over my little bump of a tummy. The kids were being awesome. I hope all of you hear the vast amounts of sarcasm that I put into "awesome". So I get to spend most of my appointment not seeing my little new one's face and whatnot but telling 2 two year olds to stop lowering and raising the bed I'm on and stop trying to rip out the oxygen line from the wall, etc, etc. At this point it seems like I've been in there for hours. I'm starting to just want to know and go. She finally tells me its a girl. Ha ha ha. I win. My husband is going to cry! She finally tells me she should be about done she just has to show her pics to the radiologist. Okay see ya in a minute. So I lay there and wipe off the pounds of slimy gel. And she comes back in. I need to do some more. Okay whatever. She re-goops me and goes to town on my tummy with the 3D ultrasound. I am starting to think the 3D machine sucks cuz I can't even tell what she's looking at. Everything ok? I ask. As far as I can tell. Is the response. Bullshit.......I will soon learn the truth. So she leaves again with her newer info for the doc and before she leaves the room she tells me my daughter weighs 1 lb 13 oz and I'm 25 weeks and 5 days.....not 21 weeks 6 days like my "normal" OB thinks. WTF?!?! Whatever. So she leaves again. This time she's gone for a while. Ashtyn, my 2 year old daughter, has at this point crapped her diaper. I'm still stuck in this room. Diapers and wipes are waaaaaaayyyyy outside in the parking lot. She stinks to say the least and I'm starting to feel nauseous and embarrassed. The tech finally returns and this time with a guy. I'm going to take just a couple more pics. Super. So the guy starts rolling to wand over me and tells me he doesn't even know how to use this machine. I calm myself a bit assuming he just wants to practice and I'm the lucky sap who's on the table. So he makes small talk for a minute or two and then all of a sudden asks if my husband or anyone is with me. Uh don't you think this someone would be entertaining the kids who are trying to unplug the ultrasound machine as we speak. DUH! Oh, yeah, well I hate to tell you this but your baby doesn't seem to have a left hand. SAY FUCKING WHAT?! No I didn't say that......but that's what I was thinking. So as I slip away into the silence of shock. I only hear faint echos of the adults from Charlie Brown "waahh whha wah". After a minute or two of him showing me pics that make no sense to me they look like a yellow blob with a skinny yellow blob attached......no clue......I finally start to cry. Ashtyn looks up at me and starts to panic. She asks to come up with me so I grab her and hug her. Baby boo boo? She asks. Yeah honey, sister's gotta boo boo. And she kisses me and my belly and gives me another big squeeze. And we just lay there as the Charlie Brown noises continue. When they finally let me leave I am a total zombie. I just looked at the floor as I escorted both kids out to my car. I buckled them in and broke down bawling on the grass. This was only the beinging of my week from hell. That afternoon I received a two-week notice from one of the families I provide daycare for. I had to tell my husband the scary news of our baby girl, who by the way took it about as well as I did. I received another two-week notice from a different family on Wednesday. I also found out that day, a girl I used to hang out with went for her ultrasound and found out her daughter didn't have a brain so she had the "joy" of delivering a dead baby. I can't handle this! I just wanted to crawl into bed and die. Then the hospital called me to arrange an all-day apointment for me Monday full of High risk OB, genetic counceling, another ultrsound, possible amniosenticis. Some one shoot me please. For the rest of the week I researched online to find any info what so ever on this issue and did eventually find some relief. But then some more fear. I had to then wait until the following Monday to have my questions answered. Monday finally came and all went ok. My mother and sister went with me and Ashtyn to the hospital for round two. Luckily all else is ok with little Taylor (that's going to be her name). She definatly doesn't have her left hand and half of the fore arm is gone too but as far as we know everything else is good. So at least I can be happy about that. Can I have a nervous break down now?