I had a ticket with my name on it on the 5:00 flight from Dallas to Chicago tonight.  I was going to go up north to surprise Sister and Stephen – they graduate from Moody Bible Institute tomorrow.  But it was not to be.

I had a lunch appointment with Laura W today (the absolute best part of my day, hands down) and as I was leaving the parking lot, Joey drove in.

My doctor had called him with the results of yesterday’s labs.  They were, as my doc said “alarming”.

I am healthy as a horse.  NEVER HAVE I HAD ALARMING TEST RESULTS.  Never.  My doctor’s office scheduled me an emergency ultrasound with a perinatologist (which is, for those of you who are lucky and will never have to see one, a high risk pregnancy doc) for early in the afternoon. Joey and I went home to sit on the couch…in shock.

Our afternoon got worse from there, as if that’s even possible.

I seem to have twins, only one isn’t where it belongs and that’s what’s causing the problem.  There’s something wrong with the other baby, too, but they can’t really tell what just yet.  The perinatologist took a super long time examining me, and even called in another doc to look at the monitor with him.

I couldn’t stop shaking.

“This is really, really rare,” the perinatologist said.  So of course it would happen to me.

After that, they sent us back to my OBGYN’s office where yet the third doctor in one day examined me…my doctor is on vacation today and tomorrow.  After her examination of the pictures, me, and putting in a phone call to my actual doctor, the fill in doc said, “would you like to have surgery tonight?”

TONIGHT?!

I just looked at the wall.  “I can’t make those kinds of decisions anymore,” I said.  “Joey, take over.”

He did.  And I remember very little of the rest of the conversation, but I’ve pieced it together since then.  I’m currently stable, but the doctors weren’t willing to put me on an airplane because of what could happen to me (remember those “alarming” test results from before…)

Here’s what we know. I have to go have more bloodwork done tomorrow, just to see if the evil trend they noticed yesterday is continuing.  Then, I’m having surgery on Sunday, as early as possible.  We do not know what time.  We do not know if it’s inpatient or outpatient, and we won’t know until they get in there with a camera to see the extent of the problem.  Oh, and recovery time?  We don’t know that either – 2 days to 2 weeks was what the doc said.  That’s a heck of a window, don’t you agree?

We chose Sunday because it gives me time to go home, clean the house, make some meals and throw them in my freezer.  With a “2 days to 2 weeks” guesstimate on recovery time, I just don’t know how to plan.

I’m not sure why I’m telling you all this.  Maybe because I’m a blogger and after three years that’s how I roll.  This is just something that hurts too much to keep stuffed inside my 5 foot frame.  I’d explode. And oddly enough, I feel like you all are my friends, and I know that I don’t know half of you by name.  But it’s also kind of cathartic for me to blaaaaaugh this out.  It doesn’t make me feel better, but it reminds me that YES, this all did happen today.  And YES, we’re going to be OK.

I think.

I’m not in any real pain yet…the only thing that hurts is my heart.