Wonderful check up at Dr. Hottie's with his physician's assistant. No weight gain and blood pressure was 118/80. Baby's was heart beating at 158. I will never in my life hear a more joyful sound.
I was supposed to have blood drawn for the quad genetic screening but they stuck me 6 times and couldn't get the blood to flow. Every nurse in the place came into the room to either try to stick me or "consult". The other doctor in the practice even popped in wondering what was going on. It was like a bad joke, "How many nurses does it take to get blood from a fat girl?" They could get a vein but it would only provide a few drops and then stop. I have to drink a lot of fluids and go back tomorrow.
Next appointment is December 2 and will include the ultrasound showing gender if we're lucky.
Only a residual icky feeling left from meeting with pastor jackass. A bad memory that will fade over time. I am sad, however, that I'm being forced to leave the church where I've worshiped my whole life, but I know it's long overdue. This church hasn't really met my spiritual needs for years.
I emailed back and forth with my aunt and her words were a great comfort to me especially being that she's one of the most religious people I know. I told my mom and she was horrified and didn't know where to start to support me. Every time she would say something, I would tell her something else the bastard had to say and her mouth would drop open. She assured me of what I already know, that what he said was not true and what a shame he couldn't celebrate our miracle with the rest of us. She reminded me of how she felt about the closed minded conservativeness in our area and that this sort of thing was why she'd stopped going to church many years ago.
I wasn't going to tell my brother, he's one of the least religious people I know and has not made God a priority in his family but he must have known something was off because he kept asking me what was going on. He was supportive in a humorous kind of way and said that I should drop a check in the collection plate and write on it, "If you cash this, you are the worst kind of hypocrite."
My sweet, quiet, stoic father didn't know what to say. It was like he couldn't believe it had happened. But in the end, in between stretches of silence, he did say he thought what the pastor had to say was bullshit and that he, my Dad, didn't believe that way at all. He said he was glad I'd had a few things to say back to him. He said if the preacher continued to try and communicate with me I should be sure and hand his crap back right back to him.
I think Dad was angry and shocked but as usual didn't or couldn't convey that to me. I told him I was not going back to that place and that if he did he should know they think his grandchild is a sin. He said he understood that I felt that way but that I should consider that the people attending the church didn't think that way, only the preacher. I think he's right on this matter. The members are good people who I've known my whole life and I'm sure they would also be shocked to find out this "leader's" opinion but it doesn't matter. I won't go back there.
Funny, I didn't think Dad had said much but reading back over this it seems he said a lot. I'm sure Dad and I will speak of this again. Dad will take time to ponder it all and will want to discuss it again. He does this, I think, trying to convey emotion that he doesn't know how else to express except through calm discussion. Disappointingly, I don't think anything will change for him except that I won't be attending church with him and therefore he won't go as often. We haven't been diligent about attending since my grandma passed away but I'm sad to lose this time with him.
Thank you blog sisters for being so wonderful. I read your comments over and over all evening and in the wee hours when I couldn't sleep. You helped me I work through the emotional fallout of this horrible incident. You were sad, angry, comforting, loving and strong on my behalf when I didn't know what to feel for myself. I love you all.
Today would have been my beloved Aunt Alys' 100th birthday. We would always go to the Veteran's Day parade and then drop by her house to celebrate her birthday. Even though it was a casual celebration she was always dressed to the nines with her best jewelry on, beautiful white hair done and the best china on the table, ready to greet us. I still miss her and think of her often.